Feel the Burn
by Paceismyhero
Summary: A Puckleberry smut story that started as one part and now will be five, covering the five senses in one way or another. Everything on the show that has happened can be assumed to be true here, too, though it is not very relevant. Rated M for a reason!
1. Feel the Burn

**Author's Note:** _So this was inspired by having way too much time inside my own head while swimming laps at the gym. It is pure smut, which is so far out of my comfort zone that I'm actually terrified to post this. Typically I avoid these situations and focus more on the emotions of sex, but ... this is what happens when I try to focus a little more on the action, I guess. I COULD be persuaded to write another part if y'all like it, so please, please, please let me know what you think. Did I say please? PLEASE!_

_Otherwise, just try to enjoy. And, I don't want this to come off dirty, but get comfortable because it turned out to be a little longer than I expected._

* * *

Rachel Berry walked into the Lima Recreation Center with her bright pink gym bag hanging loosely on her shoulder. She smiled brightly at the two women standing behind the desk, accepting the extended key wordlessly and walking straight toward the locker rooms. It was her typical Saturday afternoon routine, one that would probably extend into the week now that ballet was over until next fall. The spring recital had gone flawlessly, Rachel leading the group in almost all the dances as well as having a solo in two of the songs. Now she just needed to stay in shape for next year, when she would be a senior and there was a real possibility of her catching the eye of a representative from Julliard.

Her heart pounded in excitement at just the thought. Julliard was the first step in her master plan toward success, followed closely behind getting offers from Broadway, then the Tony nominations, and after that she'd move onto the big screen. Rachel was convinced she was the next triple threat, and it wouldn't be long before everyone else knew it, too.

Practically running out of the locker room she was so giddy, Rachel didn't even notice the very solid frame of what some might consider her arch nemesis. "Whoa, Berry." Puck's hands gripped her shoulders firmly, pushing her back a reasonable distance so he could actually see her without being cross-eyed. "They having a sale on animal sweaters or some crazy shit?"

"Excuse me, Noah." Rachel rolled her eyes, intending to brush past him without further conversation. Unfortunately, as Puck reached back and grabbed her wrist hard enough to swing her back toward him, she knew that was very unlikely.

"You come here often?" He asked, mostly because he'd never seen her at the gym before. Everyone knew about her crazy early morning workouts, and then there were her dance lessons and voice lessons, so he honestly didn't know when she found the time to come to the gym, too. However, looking up and down her lithe frame, Puck was never more sure in his life that she made the time to take care of her body.

"Really?" She scoffed in amusement, her hands lifting up to rest on her hips. "Does that honestly work for you?"

"Don't flatter yourself, B." She blushed into the insult, mostly because he'd punctuated the words with a sarcastic lilt and that silly little nickname he'd started using ever since her and Finn broke up. It wasn't the only thing that had changed about their relationship since she and Finn called it quits, but she tried – desperately - not to spend a lot of time thinking about that.

"Why are _you_ here on a Saturday afternoon?" She asked suddenly, her words coming out in a rush. "I had you pegged for just rolling out of bed around this time after sleeping off a long night of debauchery."

Puck considered her words, considered the truth in them. Mike Chang had thrown a seriously off-the-hook party last night, a few of the slutty girls at their school getting so trashed that they'd actually had sex in the middle of the whole thing. If he hadn't been so far gone the whole thing might have seemed sad, but instead it was just really fucking hot. As long as he wasn't the one getting crabs, party on.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Tinkerbelle."

_That_ nickname wasn't as insulting as his usual 'sweet cheeks,' but it also didn't have the same endearing quality as the other. Especially not when he'd said it last month in the middle of glee, where it then quickly spread to the whole school. Everyone was making fun of her obsession with ballet or pointing out how she was vertically challenged. Some would come up to her pretending to think happy thoughts or asking for pixie dust.

Honestly, most of the time she wanted to _kill_ him.

"I'd be willing to teach you some things, though," he leered, again looking up and down her body.

"You're incorrigible." This time she managed to walk away from him fast enough that he couldn't grab her, but that didn't stop him from following her toward the locked studio upstairs.

Puck watched her hips sway from side to side as she took each step, his smirk widening on his ascent. Hate her or love her, Rachel knew how to work it. She more than made up for her shortcomings (no pun intended), and apparently had no beef with dressing like an adult when she came to the gym. Her tight black spandex Capri pants accentuated every tantalizing curve of her lower body. Her tight calves, her shapely thighs, her hot ass.

He groaned out loud when his thoughts got the best of him, and she turned to scowl in his direction. Puck played it off jokingly, waiting for her to turn around before he smacked her on the ass. Rachel glared at him over her shoulder while unlocking the door, stepping inside and flicking on the lights before turning back to face him.

"Do you need something, Noah?"

"You offering?"

She sighed again, turning back around to head toward the sound system. The studio room was stifling hot, none of the fans on since it was usually locked up all weekend. She'd arranged to spend a few hours every Saturday inside the room alone, needing the open area to practice her dances. Brittany had actually been the one who gave her the idea after the ditzy blonde said she used to do the same thing before she locked herself inside and was stranded for a week.

Rachel still wasn't sure if she'd been serious about that.

"Since you are just standing there taking up space, would you mind flipping on that switch for the fans?"

"Why are you dancing here?" He asked even while obeying her request. He felt like those kids in the nursery rhyme standing in there, burning up in an oven and some shit. "Don't you have a whole ballet studio at your beck and call?"

"Ballet's over, Noah."

"Well … you have a basement the size of my whole fucking house."

"The wall-to-wall mirrors help me notice the subtle flaws in the routine, and the hardwood floors are just easier for the entire thing than carpeting."

"Preaching to the choir, babe." Puck laughed out loud when she didn't seem to understand his reference. "I'm more of a landing strip guy myself, but I hear where you are coming from."

"I loathe you," she stated matter-of-factly, turning back toward the stereo to start up her warm-up music. While she was used to classical musical and the gentle tunes used for ballet, when she was practicing Rachel always used hip-hop music. It was more conducive to burning a sweat, and the beats forced her to move more naturally and stay flexible.

"The fuck's this?"

"It's workout music." She rolled her eyes, adjusting the volume a bit so it could completely surround her from even the furthest spot away from the speakers.

"Uh, no." Puck shook his head, still smiling. She'd turned up the music so loud that he was forced to basically yell. "It's fuckin' music."

"It's part of my dance routine, Noah," she chastised in a tight tone, silently begging him to keep his voice down if he was going to use such inappropriate language.

"Yeah. The no pants dance."

He laughed harder when her scowl deepened, loving getting under her skin. But it was Rachel who would have the last laugh, the matching coat to her Capri pants that she was wearing stripped from her body in fury. Underneath was hiding a form-fitting pale pink racerback tank top. Since it was basically see-through, Puck could also see the racerback black sports bra underneath as well as the expanse of perfectly smooth olive skin of her midriff.

"Goodbye, Noah."

Puck had been so busy ogling her that he barely noticed her pushing him outside the studio room. Rachel slammed the door in his face, somehow managing to lock it louder than it needed to be just to prove that he wasn't welcome. But he kept watching her through the small side window, his forehead resting against the glass while his eyes danced along with her. He could feel the music but couldn't hear it, so instead he just focused on her movements.

Rachel was obviously just warming up, but knowing the song wasn't some Broadway bullshit just revved him up more. She had attitude when she danced, her hands skimming up and down her body while she made swift, erratic turns. She popped her chest forward with purpose, and dipped her ass almost all the way to the ground. Puck wasn't quite sure why she had put on high heels, but he wasn't going to complain either. She looked more like a pinup star than a goody-two-shoes choir girl priss, and he'd seriously never wanted anybody more than he wanted her at that moment.

Her eyes remained focused on her reflection, her gaze breaking only when she was whipping her hair into a turn or pop. She knew he was still standing by the door, and couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't left. Clearly he didn't come to the gym to stand around all day, but he'd been cemented to the same spot since she closed the door in his face almost fifteen minutes ago.

Casually, Rachel turned toward the door, playing off the change of direction as part of her dance even though her eyes went right to the exit. They stared at one another for a long second, her vision tunneled at the intensity in his gaze. But it didn't take more than a few more moments before he shook his head and turned to leave, a shadow of where he had been left in his wake. Rachel frowned slightly, the feeling that had risen in the pit of her stomach fading now that Puck had broken the spell.

She spent the next hour or so going over her dance routine, perfecting certain steps and altering others to make them a little more challenging. Rachel was a phenomenal singer and a terrific actress, but dancing wasn't in her natural threshold. She took longer than she wanted to learn some of the choreography for glee, and the last thing she needed was to appear amateur next year during a big recital when everyone was watching. If she was going to be a star, she needed to practice.

Rachel dabbed the sweat on her forehead with her hot pink towel, pressing the soft fabric to her neck and chest while she tried to catch her breath. The fans were blowing full force now and the room was a cool, comfortable temperature, but Rachel still felt short of breath. She wished she didn't know why, but considering how focused her brain had remained on thinking about Noah, she had a pretty good idea.

She honestly did hate him. Every day since they'd made out and she and Finn broke up, Rachel hadn't been able to stop thinking about Puck and it was driving her mad. She had schoolwork and voice lessons and glee and a million other things to worry about, but her hormones were running amuck in her system. Everything went back to some crazy impure thought, and all those were centered around him.

He was irritating in a lot of ways, but what Rachel hated most was that he knew he was hot. Puck was charming and athletic and he could and did have any girl he wanted. Sex appeal dripped from his pores and Rachel wanted to be the exception, but lately she felt as much like a puddle in his presence as the rest of the girls who fell at his feet. The only difference was those girls were usually in and out of his life after a day or so, whereas she had to be around him day in and day out.

Aside from school and glee, his mom was actually really close with her dads, and they always sat next to each other at the synagogue. She'd had to put up with his immature whispering and inappropriate gestures since she was eight years old, only now she knew exactly what he meant, and knew he wasn't just saying those things to get a rise out of her. He had experience, and unless every single girl who had ever slept with him was lying, then his confidence was well earned and not faked, either.

Rachel sighed, grabbing her pink water bottle and heading out of the studio. She just needed to take a break to clear her head. Then she could go back in and really focus on her routine without hearing the tiny giggles of all those dumb girls talking about every detail of their escapades with Puck echoing in her head. Honestly, it was nauseating how little they left to the imagination; sex was supposed to be something shared between two people who loved one another, not just a random man and a random woman simply because they fit together.

"I knew you couldn't stay away."

Rachel groaned when she entered the pool's sauna, actually questioning her religion at that moment. Seriously, if there were a God then she wouldn't have gone to the _one_ spot where the person she was trying to avoid was located. Unless, of course, God just had a sick sense of humor, which actually sounded about right. Her entire life was evidence to that fact.

"From the looks of it, you sweat enough in that studio."

Puck tried to make the best of a bad situation, turning on his Rachel-repellant – which was basically just flipping the switch from annoying to really fucking annoying. He'd spent the last hour lifting weights and running around the indoor track, but nothing seemed to get him out of his funk. He'd come to the sauna to relax, and leave it to Rachel to ruin even his best laid plans.

"Do I look bad?" She asked suddenly, a nervous lilt in her voice as she looked down and surveyed her attire.

What was once an almost-see-through tank top was now _completely_ see-through, the straps on her shoulders loose and falling down her arms despite Rachel's repeated attempts to keep them upright. She'd put her hair up into a messy ponytail during the course of her routine, and it had come a little undone, too. She fussed with it as she sat down, giving up to again focus on the falling straps.

"You could just take it off."

Rachel scoffed at his suggestion but looked down at the fabric with equal hostility. The stupid shirt was clinging to her like a second skin, and the steam from the sauna was not helping the situation. If she'd been in here alone, or with people she didn't know, Rachel would have had no reservations about downsizing to just her sports bra. After all, it covered her more than her bathing suit did, and it wasn't like she was ashamed of her body, either. Ever since she really started to focus on her dancing, she'd actually gotten really tone and she was quite pleased with the results.

But she wasn't alone. And almost the exact opposite of a stranger, she knew Puck _very_ well. He had some crazy sixth sense about girls' carnal desires, Rachel herself recently joking that he could sense a horny girl with a five-mile radius. For all his lewd comments and suggestive glances, though, Puck had promised her more than once that she wasn't his type, so maybe she had nothing to worry about. And if he'd been lying, then she'd have enough ammunition to last her for the rest of their high school career.

What was the harm in seeing how he'd react?

Puck gulped when Rachel's hands touched the hem of her tank top, his eyes following the seam of the fabric as it traveled up her body before being tossed carelessly on the bench to his side. Rachel took a seat next to the piece of clothing, her gaze straight ahead avoiding his while his was straight ahead, focused on her. She was such a fucking tease.

"Is that all it takes?" He strangled out, watching her profile closely. Her chest was rising and falling a little more quickly than it had been when she walked in, which didn't make any sense if she was coming down from her dancing high. He decided to test this theory. "You might be more comfortable without your pants on, too."

"Yes, but I'd imagine you would be a little more uncomfortable." She tossed him a look that heated up the room another ten degrees for Puck. Seriously? When did Rachel Berry perfect seductive eyes?

"You want to help alleviate some of my discomfort, Princess?"

"Alleviate?" She questioned on a snarl, her arms folding up under her rack. "Is that word worth two or three points in your PSAT practice test?"

He couldn't help but grin, pleased at how quickly she'd learn to fight back with him. Before she'd just tell him to shut up and pout, but now she was faster than a whip, ready to sling a comeback right at him if he engaged her. It was actually kind of hot, like verbal foreplay.

The only question was what she'd do if he _really_ engaged her.

"Don't dish it out if you can't lick it up," he stated while peeling his own sweaty shirt off, throwing it to the ground and watching Rachel's reaction. Honestly he expected her to cover up any primal response she had with her typical loud-mouth arguments or a simple grunt and avoidance. He never expected her to look so … predatory. She legit hadn't blinked in a whole minute, her normally deep chocolate brown eyes clouding over but focused on the subtle beads of sweat that dripped down his chest and torso.

Was that how he looked at women because he felt like she was going to jump across the room and eat him alive?

"What do you want me to lick?"

Rachel didn't even recognize her own voice, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could censor them. The air in the sauna was thick, the steam mixing in with the heavy-lidded gazes being shared between the two occupants. She was in way over her head here, but it was like her brain had stopped functioning. The second Puck had taken off his shirt, something inside her snapped. And whatever it was, it was giving the orders now, not taking them.

"I've got a few ideas."

Fucking understatement of his life. Puck had about a _million_ ideas on how Rachel could make good on her question. But he knew she was just fucking with him. He'd been around enough Cheerios in his time to know their group motto, and he knew a trap when he heard one. He wasn't stupid enough to say or do something that would get him into trouble, but he also wasn't going to be the first to back down. He wasn't a bitch.

"Want me to show you?"

Rachel inhaled a shaky breath, the steam seeping into her bloodstream. That was the only excuse for why she suddenly felt like any of that made any sense. There was no other reason for her to feel so dizzy and lightheaded other than she'd just been dancing for an hour and then come into this hot, steamy room. She had no other defense for why her head eventually nodded up and down, her body lifting to a standing position and her feet moving her to stand directly in front of Puck.

From his lounged position on the wooden bench, Puck had to tilt his head back to look into her eyes. He wasn't sure what he saw, but it certainly wasn't amusement. She wasn't challenging him or waiting him to fold like a cheap suit. Rachel Berry had just given him the green light.

And that meant go.

Puck leaned forward, his tongue darting out to make contact with the warm skin of her stomach. Ever so slowly he moved up her torso, his tongue taking the long route from her collar bone up her neck and then down her jawline before reaching her mouth. She was practically hyperventilating already, her hands gripping at the waistband of his gym shorts.

"Your turn," he whispered in her ear, his voice low and husky.

Rachel blinked a few times, waiting for her body to catch up to her brain but failing miserably as Puck continued to assault the sensitive area of skin right behind her ear. He was alternating between soft kisses and light nips, and Rachel couldn't help but clench his shorts in her hands tighter. When he dipped his head lower to tease the spot where her neck and shoulder met, the same muscle on his body caught her attention.

She watched it pulsate under his skin and was fascinated, watching a tiny drop of sweat fall from his hairline, over the muscle, and eventually down his back. Without warning, Rachel's tongue peaked out between her teeth, taking the same torturous trail that the drop had taken. She moved to Puck's side while continuing her ministrations, her tongue going all the way past his shoulder blades, down his spine, and stopping at the waistband of his shorts.

Puck's head sagged low during the course of Rachel's exploration. He actually felt a little woozy and tried to convince himself it was the heat getting to him, which wasn't actually far from the truth. Her tongue had left a trail of fire across his skin, each new spot set ablaze by her touch. He actually thought he might pass out, but he was going to keep going until she stopped or he died. One or the other.

"My turn."

He took back the reins, turning her around so her back was pressed against his chest. His hands moved purposely over her body, sliding down her slick, tone arms and then moving across her taut stomach. His fingers brushed over the fabric of her capri pants while his thumbs hooked under the fabric with the intent to pull them down. She let out a squeak that was muffled only by a low moan from deep in Puck's throat.

"Seriously, B?" He stopped his movements, his fingers touching the hidden skin but failing to rid her of the clothing. He turned her around instead, looking into her eyes as he pressed himself into her frame. "Commando?"

Rachel's chest was heaving she was breathing so hard, her heart thundering in her ears. "They're tight pants," she panted, barely able to say the three words without collapsing. His breath was dancing across the skin of her neck and she was really worried she might faint. "I hate panty lines."

He groaned again, pressing against her a little more insistently. It was enough to catch her off balance, Rachel falling back until she was sitting on the top of the bench with her back against the far wall. Puck was standing on one foot and kneeling on the bench with the other, his mouth practically suctioned to hers as he kissed her senseless. He propped his hands up on her bent knees, plunging his tongue deep in her mouth now that he had all the leverage he needed.

Rachel sighed into the embrace, her hands coming up to move through the short strands of his Mohawk. He grunted when her fingers got tangled and pulled away, but neither stopped kissing the other. Instead, Rachel moved her hands to his pronounced jaw, trying to pull him closer. As if he could _get_ any closer.

"My turn," she purred, that unknown voice back and again taking control of her entire body. Her hands settled on Puck's shoulders, pushing him over and down before he could protest, her body quick to move over his to keep him still. And still as stone he was when she lowered herself into his lap, a low gurgling sound the only really thing she heard before resuming their heavy making out.

Puck honestly had no idea what had gotten into Rachel, which sort of pissed him off because he wanted to file it away for future reference. He wanted this shit to go down every damn day of his life, but how was that going to happen if he couldn't remember how it started? When she was kissing him like that, though, he could barely remember his name either so maybe it didn't matter.

"Mmmmm." Rachel tore her lips away from his, taking a few moments to catch her breath while her head sagged onto his shoulder. His hands were gripping her hips like he was afraid she was going to run away, but Rachel didn't even think she could walk right then, let alone bolt. But something about his grip, though tight and possibly leaving a bruise, excited her. It was so strong, so manly, and she found herself moving into his touch.

"F-fuck," he stuttered, trying to grip her hips tighter so she'd stop moving, but it only made her rock harder against him. This shit was getting serious now and he might lose it if they didn't cool it real soon. But that was his brain talking, his body having a whole different plan in mind. One hand lifted up to the back of her hair, yanking at the elastic band holding it all together so it pooled around her shoulders. He tangled his fingers in the soft strands and then pulled gently, Rachel's lips leaving his as her head fell back.

She continued to gyrate her hips against his, moaning as his mouth and tongue moved across her chest and newly exposed neck. He probed her pulse point with the tip of his tongue, and she wondered if he could feel her heartbeat against the thin flesh. She swore he could hear it in the quiet, small space, knowing he probably took some gratification in being the one making her heart race.

"Does this … does this feel good?"

He recognized _that_ voice, that one still rare but far more common than the crazy seductive one from earlier. Rachel wasn't one usually to be unsure, and she certainly wouldn't draw attention to it. But these weren't necessarily usual times. She was rocking her hips into his without abandon and he was using both his hands on her ass just to create even _more_ friction. No, these were special times.

"You tell me," he growled, thrusting a little harder into her movements. His gym shorts were providing little to no resistance for his massive erection, the hard flesh wonderfully trapped between their two bodies. He'd seriously never been this hard before, or at least that's what he thought until he felt Rachel pull away and fall to her knees.

The second her hand pushed down his shorts and gripped his length, Puck's head fell back against the top bench with a hard thud. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he legit thought he might be having a heart attack. He didn't care, though. This was without a doubt the best possible way ever to die.

Rachel's movements started out slow, this really being her first time in this situation. The thought alone was almost enough to pull her back to reality, but whether it was because of the heat or the hormones Rachel was way too far gone to turn back now. Everything about the last thirty minutes had just felt exponentially better, and until it stopped feeling good, Rachel wanted to know how much better it could get.

Tentatively, she leaned forward and touched the tender flesh with the very tip of her tongue, the sound of Puck hissing out a curse word urging her to continue her experimentation. She alternated between licking and sucking, sometimes using her hands to stroke his length and sometimes using them to tease his balls. She started to notice what things caused different noises from him and it sort of became a game.

When she engulfed his entire member, the tip hitting low in her throat, and started humming to the song she'd used for her dance routine earlier, Puck let out another strangled gurgling sound. Rachel smiled when she released him a pop, liking the type of power she had over him at that moment. In here, like this, it was like she was an entirely different person, a person who was attractive and desirable. She was sexy and knew exactly what to do to satisfy her man.

Rachel slid her tongue right over his tip and took him back into her mouth, bobbing up and down before dragging her eyes up his body. Sometime after she'd rounded second base and moved onto third, Puck had moved his head back to being upright, and he stared back at her with heavy-lidded eyes. She moaned at the lust she saw coursing through his brown orbs, the added vibration causing Puck to let out a slew of incoherent words before emptying himself completely into her mouth.

He gasped for breath, so utterly drained of air and bodily fluids that he almost didn't notice her lick her lips and smile up at him. Honestly, that small gesture instantly had him ready to go again, which is why he didn't even let her stand up but instead just (basically) tackled her to the ground. She actually giggled into the assault, and fuck if that didn't make him even harder.

Rachel's dainty hands caressed his sides, and shit was fucking with his head or something because he couldn't focus on giving her a proper hickey when she was doing that. The room had to be close to 150 degrees, and more like 200 in the spot between their two bodies. But her slow, methodical movements sort of tickled and then he … shivered?

Fuck that noise.

Puck rested his weight on his knees, using both his hands to grasp hers and lift them over her head. He secured them there with one hand, the other taking the same slow path she had just traced on his skin. Rachel writhed underneath him, desperately trying to release herself from his grip. Bitch hated not being in control, and that sort of got him off. Not only did his chest puff out a little when it seemed like he was the only one she'd let her guard down for, but he was totally cool with letting her dominate him, too.

He kissed her hard enough that Rachel thought she saw stars, her eyes shooting open once she felt where Puck's other hand had gone. With his palm against her most sensitive area, it seemed as if he found his destination, Rachel biting her lip when she felt him slowly move one finger over her. He continued kissing her, though, his tongue mimicking the movement of his finger as it slipped into her folds.

"Sssssshit," Rachel breathed, her head falling back to the ground. Puck moved to latch his lips to her overly exposed neck, and Rachel arched into him when she felt him nip at the heated skin. He inserted another finger and actually laughed when she cursed again, but Rachel could barely think straight let alone form an argument that would inform him that he was being very rude. In fact, as he moved his hand inside her pants so his thumb could rub against her clit, she didn't know if she'd ever be able to speak again.

"You like that?" He asked, his tongue tracing the outer shell of her ear before he blew on the lingering moisture. Rachel shuddered and answered in a groan, her hips thrusting into his touch. "You want more?"

"Pleeeease."

Puck grinned, liking that sound the best so far. He'd heard her reach some pretty high notes during glee and it was about fucking time he got one for himself. He let her hands go then, needing his other to pull back her sports bra. The second his lips surrounded her tight nipple, Rachel let out a piercing scream, her whole body tensing as she started to come undone. He felt her walls begin to throb around his fingers, and fuck if he didn't groan too when she dug her nails into his back before completely falling off the edge.

Rachel could barely breathe, but she clung to Puck anyway, holding him tightly by the shoulders as she slowly came back to reality. His was breathing heavily too, but Rachel wasn't sure if it was because of their actions or just being in the sauna. Sweat was pouring off both of them and the only thing surrounding them was more heat, but the second they felt a cool rush of cold air they wished they hadn't.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Rachel hid her face in the crook of Puck's neck, his head coming up so he could look into the eyes of the intruder. She could feel every single muscle in his body tense up, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was because he was embarrassed or pissed they'd been interrupted. Knowing Puck and the many tales of places he's christened, she figured it was the latter.

"Are you OK?"

Puck crinkled his forehead in confusion, the maintenance guy's question certainly catching him off guard. OK? Let's see: He'd just had the best head of his life from the one girl he'd been trying to bone since seventh grade and then she let him finger fuck the shit out of her with seemingly every intention of going to the next level. Up until being interrupted, Puck was pretty fucking fantastic.

"The sauna is supposed to turn off after a certain length of time for safety reasons, but it's been broken for the past couple of weeks. How long were you two trapped in here?"

His questions continued to be met with silence, which only seemed to frighten the poor man more. He quickly knelt down to help Puck to his feet, the younger man smart enough to exaggerate his movements so the employee didn't notice his raging hard on. Puck grabbed his shirt from the floor to somewhat conceal the evidence and then used Rachel's shirt to dab the sweat off his head and neck.

"Can you two walk? We should get out of here."

Rachel looked back at Puck, her teeth worrying her bottom lip when he kept his head sagged low. She didn't know if he was avoiding looking at her or if he was just trying to seem like he was sick. Truthfully, she did feel really wobbly, but Rachel guessed that had more to do with Puck than the steam. Still, she accepted her water bottle from the man and drank every last drop, letting him lead her out of the room. Puck said he wasn't sure he could walk yet, so he stayed behind.

"We should get you checked out or something!"

"Honestly …" Rachel coughed on the word, it the first she'd spoken voluntarily since she sat down in the sauna. "I'm fine, Sir. Thank you for your concern, but I feel … great." She nodded in assurance, patting the gentleman on the shoulder before climbing back up the stairs to the studio. She looked at the clock and was surprised she'd been away for a whole hour. It was the craziest thing, since it felt like her time with Puck had lasted mere seconds.

Rachel sighed, bending down to get her spare water from the floor. She tipped it back and drank straight from the bottle, not once thinking about the germs on the cap or the dangers of the plastic bottle it had come in. No, after almost having sex in a community gym sauna with a guy who's had more sexual partners than lost teeth, Rachel was pretty sure the water wasn't going to make her sick. Rachel released the bottle with a gasp, surprised she'd drank the entire thing since she was still so thirsty.

Rather, her mouth was still watering.

"You forgot your shirt." Rachel's head whipped toward the door, her breath catching in her throat when she saw him. He still wasn't wearing a shirt, which typically wasn't allowed in the facility but they must have felt bad for presumably almost killing one of their members. He tossed it toward her and she caught it with a slap, the thin material so saturated with sweat that she knew she'd never be able to rid it of the smell.

"Thanks," she managed to whisper, her eyes remaining down and focused only on the garment.

Puck took a long pull from the water the gym had given him, hydrating his body while his brain tried to work through everything that had happened. He'd managed to get a grip on his giant boner, but fuck him if his dick didn't twitch when he walked into the studio and saw her standing there, downing that water like she'd die without it. He'd just been inside that mouth, and he'd never felt more jealous of a water bottle than at that moment.

"I'm sorry, Noah. About before." She lifted her gaze up to meet his, wishing he wasn't so good at hiding his emotions. Finn was easier to read. She knew when he was happy or mad or confused. But Puck … he could hate your living, breathing guts and still manage a smile if the situation called for it. But what did this situation call for? She wasn't _really_ sorry, but it seemed like the right thing to say considering the caliber of women he was accustomed to. "That got entirely out of hand."

"No, it _almost_ got out of hand." He locked the door with a smirk, strutting closer to where Rachel stood in the middle of the room. Maybe he was crazy, but he could tell she didn't believe what she was saying. He knew her well enough to know when she was lying, and he knew she wasn't sorry. And fuck if he was. "If it had gotten _entirely_ out of hand, you'd be walking funny."

Rachel shook her head, noticing his advancement but suddenly unable to move. It was taking everything in her not to get _closer_, so standing still was actually a good thing. If she stood still, then she didn't seem so desperate. He wouldn't be able to tell that all she wanted to do was go back in time and finish what they had started.

"We can't do this."

"Your mouth is saying no," Puck said with a grin, watching as Rachel seemed to notice he wasn't going to stop until he touched her, her first step away from him hard and forced, "but your body is screaming yes."

"Says the rapist," she tossed back, taking another step away from him for every step closer that he took. Eventually she ran out of room, though, her back hitting the side wall while Puck dipped into her personal space. She closed her eyes when his breath hit her neck, flashes of their time in the sauna pushed to the forefront of her mind. Her hands lifted to his shoulders, her intention of pushing him away lost the instant the pads of her fingers made contact with the bare flesh.

"Tell me to go." It came out as a growl, Puck pushing his body harder against hers, his lips moving over her shoulders and neck, licking and nipping at the area just like before. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll leave."

Rachel whimpered, her hands falling from his shoulders to his chest. She could feel her brain telling her to do it, sending the signal to her hands to shove him away from her. But nothing was working. It was like all the wires were crossed, because instead of pushing him away, her hands moved to his back and she brought him closer. Her chin rested on his shoulder as he continued to assault her, Rachel's eyes fluttering open in pleasure when he touched a particularly sensitive area.

"Wait." Her vision was cloudy at best, but her eyes focused on the locked door and then the small window right beside it. Anyone walking toward the elliptical machines could see them, and if she was going to succumb to his advances, then they weren't going to get caught again. "Noah, the window."

Puck groaned, pulling back to look behind him. He saw the same thing she did, and sighed while quickly trying to think of a new plan. He was seriously going to bust a nut if this didn't happen soon, and fuck – this was _going_ to happen.

"The other wall." Puck mentally tripped and almost literally did too when she lifted herself into his arms. He pushed her into the wall, pivoting his hips against her center recklessly. "Noah!" She gasped, clutching at his shoulders. "The. Other. Wall."

He groaned and slowed his movements, getting a tighter grip around her waist while the other settled under her ass. He whipped them around and walked the necessary ten or so long paces it took to get them to the other side, away from prying eyes. Her body slammed against the flat surface, Rachel immediately lifting her hands to rid herself of her sports bra.

It was all the invitation he needed, his head sagging just enough to flick his tongue over one of her nipples before sucking the tiny nub in his mouth. She sighed into the teasing, rocking her hips against his again. Her rhythm matched his and they both silently agreed they'd had enough foreplay downstairs.

It was time to get to the main event.

Rachel slid down the wall with a slippery screech, her feet landing unsteadily while Puck continued his descent, taking her pants along with him. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to fight down the nervous feeling fluttering in her stomach, hating how exposed she felt then. But when he came back up to her level, the look in his eyes a mix of lust and something she'd never seen before, all her worries escaped her. She suddenly had nothing to be afraid of.

"You're fucking incredible," he said when she pushed his gym shorts off his hips, letting them pool at his feet. She smiled, thinking that was the closest Puck had probably come to being sincere in this situation, and decided to take it as a compliment. With a little hop and Puck's hands gripping both of her inner thighs, Rachel situated herself back on the wall.

"You're … clean, right?"

Puck's eyes were focused on the mirrors to his right, seeing the reflection of Rachel using her back to secure herself above him almost hotter than seeing it in front of him with his own eyes. His junk looked huge even ten feet out and fuck if that wasn't awesome. But then he heard her question and the reality of everything hit him like a train. His gym shorts didn't have pockets and he certainly wasn't going to leave her here to run downstairs to his wallet to get a condom.

But he wasn't going down _that_ road again either.

"Yea, but …."

"It's OK." Rachel inhaled a deep breath, nodding her head in assurance even as she poised him at her entrance. "I'm on the pill."

"Fuuuuuck, I love you." Puck drawled out the first word, but the other three came out in a rush and were almost drowned out completely by Rachel's hiccup of a scream when he thrust deep into her center. His confession, whether honest or not, was enough to keep her mind from focusing on the pain. Instead, she turned her head to her left, her eyes focusing on their reflections. Puck wasn't moving in a somewhat noble attempt to give her time to adjust to everything, but she could see the muscles in his back and legs pulsating from all the pressure.

He must have felt her eyes on him, because he lifted his sagged head from her chest and met her gaze in the mirror. They stared at one another for a long moment, each of them trying to read the other's expressions for things that weren't prepared to say. Rachel came to understand that Puck's confession wasn't just a slip of the tongue, and Puck totally got what it meant that Rachel was letting him be the one to take her virginity.

And with all that silently cleared out of the way, their hips started moving against one another's. It was slow at first, Rachel still getting used to everything and Puck trying to swivel his hips in just the right way. Then Rachel slipped down the wall only about an inch, and that was all it took for his pubic bone to rock against her bundle of nerves in exactly the right way. She called out in ecstasy, her nails once again digging deep into the contours of his back.

Puck hissed when he felt her break the skin, but considering the bite marks she had on the juncture where her neck and shoulder met, he couldn't really complain. He couldn't do anything but continue to pound into her, his eyes once again moving to the mirror when she arched even further into him. He felt deeper than he'd ever been before – in all aspects of the word – and after their activity in the sauna, he knew the end would be coming soon.

Rachel hiccupped on another gasp of air, choking on nothing as a light, falling feeling started in her throat and then moved down her stomach. One of Puck's hands that didn't have a firm grip on her ass moved between them and when he pinched her clit, the light feeling burst into flames and seared through her entire body. She let out a high-pitched gasp before Puck closed his mouth over hers, halting any further suspicious noise from filtering out of the locked studio.

A few more powerful thrusts and Puck was a goner. He'd never gone bare back in a girl before (he might be clean, but he wasn't always so sure about some of the other sluts he banged regardless of if they were on the pill or not), and the feel of Rachel's walls clenching around his dick sent him somewhere past the stratosphere. He emptied everything he had left to offer, his body emptying of strength too.

Without Puck's arms helping keep her upright, Rachel slid back down to the floor. Her legs felt like jelly, too, so she couldn't really fault him for letting her fall. She did however miss the full feeling she had from him being inside her the second they parted, and wondered what she might have gotten herself into. How was she going to live with this moment being pushed back to the far recesses of her mind? How would she handle it the next time she heard about Puck and another one of his trysts? What would she do if _she_ became one of the stories?

"Ya'ok?" His breath was ragged like hers, both of them trying desperately to come back down to Earth with little to no structural damage. Considering her previous thoughts, she wasn't sure what her answer was, but she nodded nonetheless. Puck nodded too, taking her by surprise when he pressed his lips against hers. It wasn't rough as their previous embraces, his tongue moving against hers languidly, as if he had all the time in the world.

As if he wanted the moment to last forever.

"I look like a mess," she settled on a irrelevant statement, her reflection staring back at her in pity. Her lips were red and swollen, her cheeks flushed pink and her hair a complete disaster. She managed to get her clothes back in place, but it was no easy feat considering all the sweat clinging to her body. Puck looked exactly the same as he did when he walked in from the sauna, which was only a little frustrating.

"I don't think you've ever looked hotter." She furrowed her brows at his words, not really knowing it they were a compliment or not. "But, you're right. I think we could both benefit from a long, hot shower."

"Noah." Even after everything that just happened, Rachel found it in herself to blush at his purposeful use of the words "long" and "hot". It's funny that something she would have found completely infuriating this morning and suddenly seemed so … hot. "I think we should just … get out while we are ahead." She felt the words form on her tongue and escape her mouth before she could even stop them. She was a rambler. It was just a fact. "I mean, this was … lovely … and I appreciate everything you've done for me and hope I lived up to some sort of sliding scale of decent. But … we both know this was just a one-time thing and it would be easier if …"

"One time?" Puck shook his head, invading her personal space again as he leaned into her. "Fuck that noise." He kissed her hard, putting some meaning behind the embrace. "I don't just want a slice of Fuck-Berry pie." He grinned, pushing back to look into her half-closed eyes. "I want the whole thing."

"Really?"

"What can I say?" Puck shrugged casually, letting his voice hit an unusual, vulnerable timbre. "I like forking you."

Rachel rolled her eyes but couldn't stop her smile from widening, again thinking that was probably the best she was going to get out of him. Puck wasn't the type of guy who was big on grand romantic gestures or even mushy sentiments, so that crude joke was probably his equivalent to asking her out.

"Ditto."

"Good." Puck smirked, liking this new side to Rachel. She wasn't as suffocating as last time, and she was certainly more adventurous. He almost expected her to stop in the middle of everything and demand he sing a show tune or some shit. And, fuck, knowing the end result, he would have done it. In costume and everything. "So how about that shower?"

"Well …" Rachel trailed off, walking away from him toward her bag. She stuffed everything inside and got the key for the room before turning back around to him. "I'm am feeling kind of dirty."

"Fuck yeah you are." Puck unlocked the studio door, stepping through the frame and holding the door open for her. She whispered her thanks while locking the studio back up, blushing again when she turned around and he took her hand in his. She felt like there were a million pairs of eyes on her at that moment even though there were only a few people running on the treadmills nearby.

"In hindsight, maybe we should have turned on the music to sort of … drown out all the noise."

"It _was_ fuckin' music," Puck said, thinking that was a missed opportunity. He'd wanted to screw her in that room the entire time he was watching her dance, but he sort of forgot about the music after everything that happened in the sauna. "Maybe next time."

Rachel blushed and grinned wider, feeling her cheeks actually hurt they were spread so wide. "Ugh. I don't know what's gotten into me."

"I do," he leered, moving her arm up so his was draped over her shoulder and their hands were clasped over her chest. He placed his mouth mere millimeters from her ear, and she shuddered before he even said anything. "Me."

"I really do hate you sometimes. You know that, right?" She said it with a smile, which was something Rachel figured she was going to have to get used to if this thing with Puck was actually going to turn into something.

"Yea." He grinned back, walking backward toward the locker rooms while Rachel was going to walk to the front desk to give back the studio key. The separation would be long enough that each of them could sneak into the woman's restroom without anyone noticing. "We can talk about that in the shower."

Rachel wished she had something snappy to say back, or could at least give the illusion that he was dreaming if he thought she would always accept such a blasé attitude when it came to sex, but for the life of her she couldn't even manage to fake apathy.

She wanted to get wet.


	2. Hear the Burn

_**Author's Note:** I'm not sure if it is a good thing or a bad thing that I'm back, but I hope no one minds. :) The feedback was amazing and seemingly inspiring, my small idea turning into another full blown part. So first I must say thank you, thank you, thank you. _

_This one isn't ENTIRELY smut like the last one, but rather about 50/50, the other half being actually some plot (what can I say? I'm a traditionalist at heart. LOL!). Please let me know what you think, and enjoy!_

* * *

Noah Puckerman walked into his math class just as the bell was ringing, tossing a sexy smirk toward the teacher before taking his seat. Mrs. Lewis always tried to give him the stink eye for his frequent tardiness (or downright absences), but there was also a hint of desperation and longing in her eyes that Puck couldn't ignore. He was the only kid in school who hadn't done his math homework in two years and still managed a C, and he was smart enough to know his abs were a big part of _that_ math equation.

Puck opened his book with a crack, the binding still basically new despite the school year being close to over. Two months from now and it would be nothing but sleeping in late, getting paid to get a tan, partying, and generally having a good time. Summer was the one time in Ohio that wasn't totally miserable, and Puck had big plans for this year.

He smiled wickedly, digging into his jean pocket for his cell phone. Mrs. Lewis probably wouldn't say anything to draw attention to him, but he kept the device hidden underneath his desk just in case. He didn't have to look at the keys to know which letters he was pressing anyway, and he could still look down to see the screen whenever she did reply.

_Do ur skirts get even shorter in the summertime?_

Puck quickly hit send, letting the phone rest on his thigh while he picked his head back up to pretend to be listening to the lesson. Mrs. Lewis was passing out a worksheet of some kind and kept pointing back to the blackboard where she'd written the instructions. He looked to his left and then to his right, sighing when he realized what he had missed.

"Bring your desks together, please," the teacher asked the two boys politely, handing them one worksheet before moving on to the next pairing. Puck groaned but maneuvered his desk closer to his partner, trying to ignore the twinge of frustration that always seemed to come up lately whenever he was around Finn. Considering they shared two other classes, glee club, and baseball, it was safe to say Puck was frustrated a lot.

The vibration on his thigh quickly picked up his mood though, Puck's hand deftly moving the device to a position where he could see it well enough but the teacher couldn't. He had known she would respond; he just didn't expect it so soon. Then again, Rachel was in her study hall and since the chick spent so much damn time doing homework at _home_, she rarely had much to do during the class period. Perhaps she was bored enough to make this interesting.

_I don't think I like where you head is at this afternoon, Noah._

Then again, perhaps not.

"Are you going to help with this or not?" Finn snarled, moving the worksheet between their two desks.

In hindsight, picking Finn to be his partner in math might not have been the best move. Kid was dumber than rocks, and Puck wasn't much better when it came to this stuff. They should have both teamed up with one of the Asian kids in the front of the class; they could do this shit in their sleep. In his defense, though, Puck was pretty sure he'd been drunk that first day of class.

"I thought you weren't talking to me."

Sure, it wasn't the most mature response, but Puck didn't have a lot of options when Finn was acting like such a twat. He'd been giving him the silent treatment as best he could for almost a month now, and Puck was actually enjoying it. Finn always wanted to talk about boring shit anyway, so getting a break from all that crap was actually quite nice. And being _allowed_ to ignore it, well that was the cherry on top.

_U liked where my head was last night_

Puck grinned at the outgoing message, putting his phone back to its safe spot before sitting up a bit in his chair. Finn's eyes were in slits and Puck tried not to notice that he was making that weird, telekinesis face. They had watched _Carrie_ one night when they were like seven years old and ever since then Finn swore one day he'd be able to do the same kind of crazy shit if he just practiced. Dude just look constipated the whole time, but whatever. Not his problem.

He slid the worksheet to his desk, scanning the document with little interest. Finn leaned his massive torso over his own desk, still trying to keep an eye on the words. Like Puck was going to magically complete all the work and tell the teacher that Finn didn't help at all or something. Shit was unlikely considering he could barely get through the first question without wanting to slit his wrists. Seriously, what the hell was a differential?

_I don't think we're talking about the same thing._

Puck lifted the phone up and read the message, smirking at her words. Bitch was a freak but it took forever just to get her to loosen up. She'd spent way too much of her childhood watching movies where girls played hard to get or some odd shit. News flash Berry, he already got you. And yet, she still thought being coy was cute (which, OK, sometimes it was). But right now Finn was bugging the shit out of him and Puck needed her to … not.

_If I were with u rt now, we wouldn't b talking all_

He quickly looked back down at the worksheet, feeling Finn's eyes on him while he texted. Dude was probably enough of a girl to nark on him or some shit, so Puck picked up a pencil and wrote his name on the worksheet. There. He contributed. Now time to get one of the Asian kid's attention.

_And just what would we be doing?_

Screw the Asian kid. Puck quickly pushed the worksheet back over to Finn's desk, leaning far back into his seat to sit more comfortably. He typed furiously on the keys of his phone, having plenty to say to such a short question. But sexting was an art form, especially with Rachel. If he got too crazy too quickly, he'd scare her away. No, instead he had to start off slow. He had to build the fire before letting the whole thing burst into flames.

_If I was next 2 u I'd lean in real close and kiss that spot rt under ur ear. My hand would creep up ur thigh until I heard u sigh_

"Why are you even here?" Finn snapped, writing his own name on the sheet and looking at it helplessly while he spoke. "School's almost over and I think you've been to this class maybe four times total." Finn lifted his gaze, a slow, shit-eating grin forming that Puck wanted nothing more than to punch right off. "Is this part of your attempt to sleep with Rachel because … seriously, dude, you're wasting your time."

_Then what?_

"You think so, huh?" Puck asked in a level voice, trying not to give too much away. He and Rachel weren't necessarily hiding their relationship, but the seriousness of their interaction was certainly a secret. They'd come into school last month as boyfriend and girlfriend, but the details of their relationship, it was decided, would stay guarded close to their hearts – or whatever the fuck Berry had said on their way to school that day. Personally, Puck wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but he knew that would just embarrass her. Girls were so weird about things like that. Other than Santana, but she wasn't really a girl. She was more like a robot.

_What do u want me 2 do?_

He typed the message quickly, almost hearing her groan in frustration even though her classroom was nearly on the clear other side of the school. Puck had learned a lot about Rachel in the past month – most of it amazing information that ended in orgasms – and one of those things was that she hated when he didn't give in to her. Sure, he could have kept going because there was certainly a long list of things he'd do next if they were actually together at that moment. But that wasn't any fun; it was like having phone sex with no one else on the other line, which was pathetic. And stupid, because _Rachel_ was on the other line.

"I don't think. I _know_." Finn said the two sentences quickly, as if he'd been burned before by taking too long of a pause between them and someone pointed out that everyone already knew he didn't think. In fact, it might have been Puck. "Rachel's not dumb enough to fall for this … nice guy routine you're trying."

"Nice guy?"

"Going to all your classes, and sitting with her at lunch, and picking her up and taking her home from school." Finn shook his head, emphasizing his point that it was stupid while silently downplaying how much of a stalker he sounded like just then. Although, if Finn were hiding in the bushes when Puck brought Rachel home, then he'd know that he wasn't just dropping her off. Rather, he was following her up into that creepy ass pink bedroom of hers and nailing the shit out of her. "You can only be a good boyfriend for so long."

_I want you to kiss me on the mouth, hard. I want to feel you need me with every embrace._

"Pretty soon you're going to get bored of chasing after something that's never going to happen, and you're going to break her heart."

_I want to hear you gasp when I unzip your jeans and fondle you even while everyone is around._

"And when you do, she'll come running back to me."

_I want you to snake your hand underneath my shirt and pinch my hard nipples._

Puck groaned loudly, catching the attention of Mrs. Lewis and some of the other students. He honestly didn't know if he was more frustrated at Finn's incessant babbling or Rachel's teasing, but both were making him crazy – in very different ways. Puck adjusted his position to take some of the relief off his raging hard on, and then looked up into the eyes of his former best friend.

"Rachel's _never_ going to date you again," he growled, deciding to start there despite the many different things he had to say to Finn right then. "She's never going to date anyone again."

"Are you that cocky? You honestly think you're _so_ good that you've what … ruined her for life?" Finn shoved the paper back toward the middle of the desk, forgetting about the assignment and focusing on Puck. The latter's expression must have given his intentions away, because Finn's eyes widened before that damn smirk was back. "Oh my god. You don't … you don't think you love her, do you?"

_I want to sit in your lap and ride you until you're the one moaning._

Fuck yeah he loved her.

"Puck, dude, it's Lauren Zizes all over again."

Puck flinched at the mention of the overweight girl who had caught his attention a few months ago. She had rescued him and he instantly was infatuated with her personality. That chick was tough and she didn't need a man or anybody to tell her what to do or say. Her dominance was fucking hot and Puck spent a good month or two doing exactly as she asked just to get into those plus-size jeans. And then, like the spell had been broken, Puck wasn't interested in her anymore. Truth was she kind of scared the shit out of him, which was why when she told him that she was expecting more, he didn't try to prove her wrong. He let her go, and they were still friends now.

But it was different with Rachel. He wasn't doting on her every command or chasing after her like some lovesick puppy. They were doing it. And a lot. Since that day in the gym, they'd had sex more times than Puck ever has in his life, and that was saying something. And, sure, maybe it was creepy that he was keeping track, but the point was that if it were just about the sex, then he would have gotten out weeks ago. The truth was that _Puck_ was the one waiting for Rachel to get bored.

_I want everyone to hear me scream your name when I come._

"It's not the same," he finally said, staring back at Finn. "Rachel's …" Hot? Amazing? Funny? Puck struggled to think of the right word to encompass all that was great about her, finally settling on, "… cool."

"So does Rachel know that you two are only friends, because she told everyone …"

"We're not just friends." Puck shook his head vehemently, his ears ringing just at the thought of being anything less than what they were now. "She's my girl."

"Well, does _your girl_ know about the others?" Finn asked pointedly, eventually grabbing a worksheet from one of the kids behind them and copying down the work while he spoke. It was common practice for the popular kids, and the other student didn't even put up a fight. "Mike Chang told practically the entire locker room about you and some chick banging in your truck after baseball practice last week." Finn looked up, his pencil stuck in the paper but not writing. "He said the thing was rocking so hard he was just glad you weren't parked on a hill."

_I want to feel you shudder in my arms when you explode inside me._

Puck coughed to hide his moan, adjusting his position again as his boner scrapped across the inside of his zipper. Rachel's sexts paired with Finn's recollection of their tryst last week was almost enough for him to blow his wad right there in class. The sexts were good for spank bank material, but memories of that day did more than just rev him up. The whole thing had been so fast and dirty – Rachel was apologizing for having to cancel on their date later the same night to go out of town with her dads. He fucking loved the way she said sorry.

"And what would Rachel think about your phone buddy?" Finn gestured toward the cell clutched in Puck's hand. "Do you think she'd be _cool_ knowing you've been going to class but phone fucking the entire time?"

_I want you to admit you love me in that strangled voice you have right after sex._

"I haven't. I've been listening to you bitch and moan like a little girl this whole time," Puck groaned, looking back down at his screen so he could finally contribute to the entirely one-sided exchange between him and Rachel.

"Even if you two do end up screwing, it's not going to change anything, Puck." Finn's voice was barely above a whisper, but the volume in Puck's head was amplified by his temper. "Rachel wanted her first time to be with me, and even if you trick her into doing it, all it is going to be is sex. You'll never have what she and I had."

"_Good_," he scoffed quickly. "Your relationship was a joke."

"If it was a joke then she wouldn't have tried so hard to get back together with me."

"Tried being the keyword. She's moved on."

"Maybe." Finn shrugged, both boys quiet while the teacher grabbed their worksheet and moved back across the room. "Or _maybe_ she's just using you to make me jealous still."

_I want you._

That was the last straw for Puck. He grabbed his backpack from the ground and stuffed his book inside, praising J-Dawg when the bell chose that second to ring. He dashed out of class without so much as a glance backward, taking long, fast strides to get to the bottom level of the school before Rachel made it too far toward her next class. He didn't know if it was his annoyance making him walk faster or his desire, but he literally sighed in relief when he caught a glimpse of Rachel through the crowd of students.

Rachel meandered through the hallway, desperately trying to make a decision about whether she should go straight to her class, stop by her locker, or go to the restroom to wash her panties. Her brain was like mush, and she only had herself to blame. Puck had started the whole thing, but he didn't even write anything back for half of the class period. And, sure, Rachel knew he was in an _actual_ class while she was just sitting around, but she couldn't help the knot of fear that tightened in her stomach when she thought of other reasons he might have stopped responding. Maybe she was boring. Maybe he didn't like the way she'd taken control. Maybe he was showing everyone in his class what she was writing and they were all laughing about it.

She was practically hyperventilating when she suddenly felt two strong arms grab her and push her harshly to the left into a closed room. It was nearly pitch black in the small space, and Rachel recognized the familiar scent of lemon zest. They were either in her bathroom at home, or the school's janitorial closet.

"Noah?" She asked breathlessly, knowing too well the hands that were working furiously on the buttons of her shirt. He cursed lightly with each new little button, but knew better than to just rip the whole thing off even though she could feel in his fingertips that's what he wanted to do. "What's gotten into you?"

"You," he growled, pushing her against the shelving unit while his hands finished undoing the buttons and then shoving the garment off her shoulders. Rachel moaned the second his lips made contact with her bare skin, Puck less careful with her bra than he'd been with her shirt. He snapped the front clasp loose with one hand and pushed it aside with his teeth, biting the soft flesh before moving to her nipples.

"Wh-why … why didn't you text anything back?" Rachel struggled with her words, which was something that never used to happen. Then again, before she started seeing him, she didn't send dirty texts in the middle of school either. Or make out in janitorial closets. Or have sex in the auditorium. Those were just things that seemed to _happen_ when he was near her.

"Finn."

"Finn?"

Puck pulled his body away from hers at the sound of her ex-boyfriend's name leaving her lips, his breath ragged as he evaluated her. It was dark, but he knew her body well enough that he could see every curve. The gentle slope of her jawline. The hourglass shape of her torso. The subtle mound of her chest. He'd explored each angle of her body with his tongue and didn't need a light to know the expression on her face.

"_Don't_ say his name." She flinched at his harsh tone, and then again when his body was suddenly pressed against hers. "Don't fuck me and think about him."

"Wh-what are you even talking about?" She didn't mean to sound so breathless, so confused, but it was hard for her to think straight when he was so close to her. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, seeping into her pores and through her bloodstream. Desire pumped through her heart and she couldn't control her hands from coming up to touch him.

Puck gripped her wrists, clenching them tightly and ripping them off his body. "You're just using me like some sick test prep assignment so you know all the ways to fuck Hudson's brains out."

"That's not true!"

"So you never wanted to screw Finn?"

"Noah." Her voice was admonishing, and Rachel struggled to release herself from his grip but failed. She huffed out a breath in anger, deciding to move her face closer so he could see all the emotion she knew was swimming in her eyes. "Finn was my boyfriend for six months, so obviously I thought about it." He grunted in anger, trying to push her away but he too failed. Bitch was freakishly strong for her size. "But it didn't happen because it never _felt_ right. Not like it felt with you. _Feels_ with you."

"Then why were you on the pill?" The anger was still in his voice, but now he was using it to fuel his desire, too. He whipped them around, trapping Rachel between his body and the wall. He kept her in place by pushing his knee into her center, suctioning his lips to her neck and chest.

Rachel tried to yell at him, tried to tell him that he was sort of scaring her, but she couldn't for the life of her make the words leave her mouth. She was too focused on the way his lips brushed against her skin, his tongue peeking out to probe the soft area of her neck were her pulse throbbed. He leaned his head back and blew softly on the lingering moisture, goosebumps rising on her skin as all her body heat dropped to her middle.

"I don't think this conversation is exactly a mood setter …" she trailed off for a second, her hips grinding against his knee involuntarily. She moaned into her explanation, "It's always good to be prepared, but the birth control was actually prescribed to me a few years ago after some female issues arose."

Puck pulled back enough that she could lift his T-shirt off his torso, throwing it carelessly to the ground. He hated that he let Finn get inside his head enough to doubt what was going on between him and Rachel. It wasn't like they were only fucking. They'd had some pretty serious talks in the past month and he should known better than to assume he was just some placeholder. But Rachel was an actress at heart and it was hard to imagine a girl like her would ever honestly want to be with a guy like him.

She ground against his knee a little harder, pulling his lips back to her and kissing him hard. Rachel didn't know what else she could do to show him that she really wanted this. It seemed like he was always waiting for her to change her mind. Why would she ever change her mind when she constantly felt like this whenever he was around? It was reckless and certainly got carried away sometimes (the auditorium incident, for instance, had a _very_ close call with the jazz band entering the room almost the same time Puck had entered Rachel), but she didn't mind being swept up in him. It took some internal convincing, but she had decided that he was a perfectly acceptable addiction.

Maybe he wanted her to change her mind just so he had a way out.

"I don't think it's very fair of you to initiate an argument with me about exclusivity when you are the one with the arm's length rap sheet of sexual partners." He hissed when she unzipped his jeans, digging into the hole like she was looking for buried treasure. "Do you have any idea what I thought when you weren't responding to those messages I sent you?"

"In perfect grammar," he muttered, getting used to the feel of her hands on his length that he could go back to teasing her neck with his tongue.

"Is that a problem?" She asked, squeezing his dick a little harder than necessary before massaging away some of the pain.

Puck strangled out a moan and shook his head from side to side, using his nose to push back some of her hair so he could kiss the nape of her neck. Truth was, Puck liked that Rachel was smart. There were usually the dumb, hot girls and the smart, ugly girls, but Rachel was neither. She was an intelligent, beautiful girl, who could turn into a hot slave driver at the drop of a hat. It was sexy, but it also made him worry. He wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, and he felt about a million times dumber when Rachel would go into one of her well-versed diatribes. Or when he had to look up "tumescent member" just to realize she'd been talking about his hard on.

"I'm sure that's not how Santana does it …"

Puck thrust into her hand at that moment, probably the worst timing ever but he couldn't help it when she moved her hands the way she was doing. She had this crazy way of making it feel like there were four hands down there, one pumping, one twisting, one teasing, and one massaging. It didn't take him too long to lose count, feeling four hands and seeing three of her he was so out of it.

"But does she do this?" Rachel used Puck's moment of weakness to escape his hold, kneeling down in front of him and wrapping her lips around him. He gulped for air and bucked into her, knocking his fist against the wall when she pulled away and blew softly, killing him slowly with the mix of hot and cold.

"B, please," he choked out when she took a long, methodical lick from the base of his shaft all the way to the tip and then fully engulfed his dick. This time his head fell against the wall, his fist pounding a few more times as he tried to hold himself together. She pulled back again, tilting her head all the way back so she could look into his eyes while his forehead rested against the wall.

"What?"

"I can't take much more of your fucking torture." Rachel grinned wickedly, creeping up the wall until she was again eye level with him.

"You want me?"

"Yes," he answered quickly, urgently.

"Say you want me."

"I want you," he growled, trying to kiss her but failing as Rachel dodged his advances.

"Say you want me more than you've wanted anybody else."

Puck stared into her eyes, not hesitating but taking a second to recognize the truth in her plea. It just figured that they were having the same passive aggressive argument at the same time. But if he was going to put all his cards on the table, then he was going to make for damn sure that she bet everything on him.

"I want you more than I've ever wanted anybody else." He kissed her until she was weak, Puck feeling her body melt against his. Their tongues battled in a fight for dominance, sliding against one another recklessly just to try to get the upper hand. He eventually ended the war by biting down on her lip, Rachel whimpering as she recoiled into a more submissive role. "You're the best I've ever had."

Rachel sighed deeply, losing herself in his words and his actions. She didn't mean to come off so needy, so desperate, but she was happy it worked in her favor. There was no denying Rachel's need to be the best, and considering her competition, she couldn't be more impressed with her position on top. Not that now was anytime to get complacent.

"Take me, Noah." She swiveled her hips into his, grinning at his thrust of approval. "I need you."

"How do you need me?" She furrowed her brows even as he began to assault her chest again, waiting for that right octave before he proceeded. "Like this?" Puck sucked her nipple in his mouth, using his hand to pinch the one on her other breast, and Rachel thrashed her head from side to side. "Like this?"

Rachel gasped when she felt his other hand sneak past the band of her underwear, pushing the fabric aside with one finger while another one slipped inside. He applied a small amount of pressure to her clit, stroking it for a few beats and then adding more pressure. He continued the pleasurable climb until she was panting, writhing against his hand.

"Please," she breathed into his ear, biting down on the soft flesh of his earlobe.

"Tell me how you want it." Puck bent down, taking Rachel's underwear with him before coming back up. She worked feverishly to rid him of his jeans and boxers, both of them thinking the same thing – it was a risk for them to get so exposed, but he could go deeper without the garments in the way. Her skirt could easily be pushed up, so that could stay. It was hotter if it stayed.

"I don't care," she breathed, her hands cascading down his abs before moving to his sides and back, trying to pull him closer.

"Ah, come on, Berry." Puck smirked, rubbing against her but making sure not to entirely give in. Everyone thought Rachel was vanilla, but she was as close to the exact opposite as you could get before it got scary. He guessed it was her dramatic nature, her passion thriving in all avenues of her life. "You and I both know you have a favorite position."

"It's always good," she moaned, rocking into him with purpose. Their rhythm was erratic and bound to finish them both off without either of them getting what they wanted if they weren't careful. "Please!"

"All you have to do is say it. Tell me how you want it."

He loved torturing her, mostly because Rachel gave as good as she got. She'd been trying to help him pass some of his classes, and Puck was sure he'd never been more into science than he was now after her seductive lesson on inertia. To every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Turned out he knew the material all along.

"From … behind," she finally muttered, groaning in so many different types of frustration that she didn't even bother to fight him when he forcefully grabbed her waist. He whipped her around so her back was pressed against his chest, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hip. Rachel tried to press her ass back into him, tried desperately to create some friction between them, but he held her hipbones like a steering wheel.

"Why do you like it like this?" Puck pushed her forward and flipped up the material of her skirt, moaning at the perfect view of her ass. He couldn't help but trace the perfect curve, smiling at how soft the skin was before giving her a small smack on the ass. Rachel continued to push back into him, but Puck just gripped her harder, moving her to the front of the small room. "Why?"

"Deep … deeper." Rachel was already out of breath, but any amount of air leftover was ripped from her lungs when he swiftly connected their bodies. Her hands shot out to the front door, bracing her torso at an angle where he could go in really deep but she could also look behind her and see his face. "You completely fill me this way." She moaned when he slammed into her harder, but kept his gaze. "In every way."

Puck pounded into her again, his thrusts strong but slow. He figured out long ago that a quickie with Rachel was not the same as it was with other girls. If they were wet and willing, it was a in-and-out situation. But, with Rachel, Puck didn't want it to end that quickly. The feeling of his dick sliding in and out of her slick heat was unmatched by anything else, and the noises she made always left him wanting more.

"Do you like it like this?" She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it. If he was going to force her to reveal all her secrets, then she was going to do the same.

"Fuck yeah."

She rolled her eyes even as they fell into the back of her head, her voice struggling to stay even. "With me or anyone?"

"No one but you," he assured on a heavy breath, leaning forward and running his tongue up her spine and kissing each vertebrae he could reach. One of his hands moved to her slim waist while the other skimmed down her side and to right above the juncture where her body was connected to his. She let out a high-pitched gasp the second he made contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, Puck's other hand moving from her waist to fondle one of her breasts. "There's only you, B."

Rachel hiccupped, her knees growing weak. The honesty in his tone paired with the sensuality of his movements made her completely shed any doubts lingering in her mind. The only thing left was an immense amount of pleasure, all threatening to flood her system in one giant wave. She'd grown accustomed to the feeling over the past month, could detect it from the very beginning stages, but it always seemed to grower bigger and stronger at every new instance.

"Tell me he never made you feel like this." Puck pulled all the way out, hearing her whimper in disapproval. "Say it," he snarled, slamming into her as hard as he could. She yelled out in ecstasy, slamming her hand hard against the flat surface of the door.

"Never!" It came out as a loud groan, but she meant it. "Only you, Noah."

Rachel's walls clamped around him like a vice, and the two came tumbling down together with their own personal symphony of noises. His torso slumped even further against her body and Rachel's grip on the flat door made her fingertips white. They both just relaxed and regained their breath, waiting for each other's heartbeat to return to normal before they reluctantly parted.

Puck smirked at Rachel when she turned back to face him, her usual grace absent right after their activities. She wobbled back and forth, still trying to get her footing as she adjusted her skirt back to its rightful position. He wasn't much better, light headed enough that he swayed slightly when he bent down to grab his boxers and jeans. He tried to play it off by reaching across the floor to grab their shirts, but he heard her light laughter echo in the small space even as he tossed her shirt up to her.

Rachel caught the garment just as she reclasped her bra, replacing her shirt with a sigh. "We have to stop meeting like this during school. This is the third time this month I've missed health, Noah, and I'm running out of excuses.

"Just tell Mr. Biedermeyer that you are doing offsite research." He grinned, throwing his shirt back on before meeting her somewhat agitated gaze. "Don't give me that look, Berry. You started this."

"I did no such thing." She whipped her hair back and forth a few times, trying to add some natural volume and style to the chestnut locks so they didn't look so much like post-sex strands. "I finished it."

Puck was momentarily lost in her subtle sexiness, eventually relenting with a smile. Rachel continued to fuss with her clothes, making sure they were straight and not on inside out or anything while he bent down and grabbed both their backpacks. He slung his over his right shoulder, grabbing the handle on the top of her with the same hand and holding it down by his leg. The bell had only rung a few minutes ago, so the least he could do after making her miss her class was to walk her to her next one.

"And while I appreciate your attempt at efficiency," Rachel stood in front of the door, blocking the exit so she could address him without prying eyes and ears, "do you think the next time we need to have a serious conversation we could do so _before_ having sex?"

Puck scoffed considering that was some of the hottest sex he'd ever had, but he once again conceded to her logical, mature rationale. "I suppose I could work with that."

They smiled at each other then, sharing a sweeter kiss before Puck turned the doorknob and opened the door for her. The second they walked through the frame, though, they were met with about forty curious pairs of eyes, and many whoops and hollers. Puck tightened his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side in some innate attempt to protect her. He could feel the heat from her cheeks through his T-shirt, and out of the large crowd both their eyes seemed to train on the exact same tall figure.

Finn looked like he was about ten seconds from having a giant temper tantrum, and despite everything that was said between the two of them in that closet, Puck wondered what Rachel would do. Would she try to make Finn feel better? Would she tell him that it didn't mean anything? Would she smile devilishly and tell Finn that he had his chance? Would she cry? Apologize?

"Noah."

Puck literally shook himself out of his daze, looking down at Rachel. She had a concerned look on her face, and it was then he realized how tense his body had become. She wasn't even looking at Finn anymore, too worried about him to even care what her ex-boyfriend's reaction might be to finding out that she wasn't a virgin anymore. Her hands were rubbing soothing circles on his back and forearm, her eyes searching his for reassurance. She must have found it, because she let a small smile escape before leaning up onto her tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Rachel stepped out of his arms slowly, her thumb brushing against his lips to wipe away some of her lip gloss. She didn't need him to say anything to know what had been on his mind, but when he smiled at her small display of affection, she knew he didn't need her to say anything either. The love shining in her eyes was clearly good enough.

"I'll see you in glee," she said, leaning in one more time to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, "Stud."


	3. Taste the Burn

**Author's Note:** So this one took me a bit of time mainly because I have absolutely NO time to write at the current moment. It is quite upsetting and results in a lot of snappy comments at the workplace. However, with that being said, I bring you the next update of what was just a one-parter. Funny how that worked out. This isn't my favorite part and I actually shifted it around a lot, so I apologize in advance if you hate it. But, please don't hate it. I have one pretty good idea for the next part and then a super awesome idea for the fifth and final part. So, thank you SO MUCH for reading and reviewing and sticking in there. Honestly, you guys are awesome.

* * *

Rachel shuffled through her family's kitchen, her fluffy pink slippers scraping across the tile floor on the way to the refrigerator. It took all her might, but she managed to open the large stainless steel door, reaching in the cold space to retrieve the jug of orange juice her fathers had picked up before leaving on business. Rachel knew they'd bought it specifically for her and she'd no doubt drink all of it before they returned, but she couldn't bring herself to drink the citrusy drink straight from the carton. Instead, she reached up to the open cabinets and grabbed one of the _Wicked_ memorabilia glasses she'd bought the last time she went to see the musical.

Filling the cup to the brim, Rachel leaned forward and slurped the juice enough that it wouldn't spill when she picked it up. Then she used both hands to take a firm grip on the cool glass, wrapping her lips around the rim and slowly tipping the glass and her neck back. She chugged the contents until the absolute last drop, gasping for air once she was finished. The doctor had told her fluids were the key to her recovery, and Rachel had taken those orders very seriously. This was her fifth glass of juice of the day, and she'd only been out of school for a mere three hours.

Most people wouldn't have bothered to go to school, but Rachel refused to let some bacterial germ keep her from any and all prior commitments. It was review week at McKinley and she needed all the preparation she was going to get if she were going to ace her trigonometry final. Mr. Schuester had cancelled glee practice for the rest of the year, so it wasn't like she was over-exerting herself. She was merely sitting in class, absorbing the last of the year's lessons in preparation for finals.

Replacing the jug inside the fridge and setting the glass inside the sink, Rachel made her way back upstairs, entering her room with a sigh. Her books were spread out the entire space, folders and notes from each different class color-coded for organization but in total disarray. Her fathers had said they understood she was nervous about finals, especially considering this had been the hardest year of high school yet, but asked that her room be picked up by the time they returned on Sunday.

That gave her two days, so Rachel simply stepped over the mess and fell into bed. It wasn't quite dark outside yet, but when she threw the covers over her head she couldn't tell the difference. She wasn't particularly tired (the juice was working!), but the doctor had also told her to rest. They seemed to have two completely different definitions of rest, but Rachel figured she could take a break from studying for at least a few minutes.

Managing exactly two minutes of peaceful, quiet resting, Rachel tossed the blanket back and sat up in her bed. She could read _while_ resting, she reasoned, before moving to her hands and knees to reach one of the closer textbooks. It was at that moment she heard the frame of her window screen jostle up, and then a long, low moan from her boyfriend.

"No no. Don't move." She rolled her eyes and fell back to a sitting position, pulling the blanket back over her as well.

"What are you doing here?"

"Good evening to you as well," he drawled, finishing his less-than-graceful entrance before turning around and securing the screen back to its rightful position.

The doctor had also said a little fresh air might do her some good, which made Rachel wonder what her fathers were paying that guy for. He seemed to have the same advice as any homeless person on the side of the road, failing to prescribe any magical pills or give any astute advice that could cure her ailment. While she was feeling better after only a few days suffering from her illness, Rachel didn't think the doctor deserved any of the credit.

"My fathers aren't home."

"I know."

"Well, you could have used the front door," she continued as he evaluated the disaster area that was her bedroom.

"Not as fun," he answered simply, choosing to sit at her desk chair with his feet propped up on her bed.

"It's still light outside. Anyone could have seen you and mistakenly called the cops."

"I live for danger." Puck smirked slowly, seeing Rachel almost grow exhausted enough with the conversation to stop talking. Almost.

"Which explains why you are here despite my explicit orders that you were to remain a minimum of ten feet away."

"Noah _Danger_ Puckerman." He chuckled into her groan. "Honestly, when have I ever listened to you, Berry?"

Rachel sighed, shrugging her shoulders softly. He had a point. They'd been going out for almost three months and she was fairly certain the only times he'd listened to her were during intercourse. Unless of course she counted the times he listened beforehand, but she didn't because she knew he'd only done so to get into her pants and then quickly forgot whatever she'd said.

"I just didn't realize your academics were so important to you that you'd risk your health – and a girlfriend-free Friday night – just to study." She narrowed her eyes on him, slowly crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You wouldn't happen to be trying to get sick just so you _miss_ finals week, _would_ you?"

Puck swallowed thickly but managed an offended expression before he bent down to grab one of her textbooks off the ground. He took his time, replacing his game face before he looked up. Rachel had yet to move, which scared him just enough that he barely noticed the way she was pushing up her boobs.

The truth was, he did bail at the last minute on the guys and what was said to be an epic party later – not to mention going to temple with his mom and sister - but it wasn't because he was looking to get sick. That wasn't necessarily a bad idea, but his unannounced visit had a lot more to do with Rachel's fathers being out of town than it did with her having a cold. In fact, sans parents, Puck had some big plans to spend the entire weekend spreading Rachel's germs throughout the entire _empty _house.

"Turns out my mom is sort of psyched she might not have to see the principal at the end of the year." Puck shrugged, derailing her suspicions but also hoping to bypass that conversation.

It was weird enough with Rachel telling him that he wasn't worthless and stuff; adding his mother to the mix was just crazy. Plus, admitting that would also mean he'd have to tell her how much his mom was seriously fucking in love with Rachel, and that shit wasn't going down. He'd do close to anything for either woman, and would be royally fucked if they teamed up.

Propping the textbook on his legs, Puck looked down at the small typeface. "Besides, I promised to quiz you this weekend."

Rachel continued to stare at him skeptically, knowing he'd eventually crack under the pressure of her gaze. First his fingers would start to twitch, and then his legs would bob up and down erratically. He wouldn't be able to sit still for much longer after that, shooting up out of the chair and pacing the room. Then, after another minute or so of complete silence – just Puck and his guilt-ridden thoughts – he'd open his big mouth and there was really no helping him after that.

Unfortunately, he did none of those things, rather just bent down again to retrieve her accompanying notes to the health book he'd grabbed. She felt the warmth from her heart spread throughout her whole body, and even though it wasn't logical she thought she felt better. Perhaps she'd tell the doctor that love had magical healing powers, too, so he could add it to his pedestrian list of quick fixes.

"Quizzing me isn't going to help you pass your classes, Noah." Rachel extended her hands, silently demanding he give her the book so she could quiz him instead. When he made no move to concede to her wishes, she exhaled a heavy breath and got out of bed. "The whole point of this weekend was to help _you _study for _your_ classes."

Puck held out the book toward her and then swiped it away right when she went to grab it, smiling when she scowled at him. He shrugged innocently, then presented the book out again. Rachel paused for a moment, and then quickly went to snatch the textbook but he again moved it out of her reach.

"Noah!" Rachel's hands fell to her sides in exhaustion, her head dipping down as well. She was suddenly grateful her fathers had never adopted another child, as she imagined this would have been her life if she had a younger sibling. "Give it to me!"

"Now we're getting somewhere." He laughed when she groaned at his immaturity and tried to yank the book out of his grasp once again. He was quicker than her anyway, but her cold just made her reflexes that much slower. It would have been entirely unfair and not worth it if it weren't so damn funny.

"You promised," she stated gravely, sticking out her bottom lip and moving her hands to her hips.

Puck gave the illusion that he was giving in, slowly bringing the book back to where she might be able to reach it, but really this was all part of his plan. "You really are the best girlfriend," he didn't give her time to shine with pride, quickly adding, "I didn't think you'd be up for stripping for right answers in your condition."

"You can't possibly be serious."

His expression didn't change. If anything it deepened. He loved when she got worked up. Her skin flushed and the passion in her eyes shimmered even brighter. It was the closest he got to see her O-face out of context.

"I look like I could play the lead in _Night of the Living Dead_."

"You promised," he reminded, using the same words she'd just spoken but in a much lighter tone.

"Yes." Rachel blushed, trying not to think of the conversation that had led to that particular deal.

They were picking classes for next year and he was actually complaining that they wouldn't have any together because she was so much smarter than him. Rachel quickly argued that he was just as smart and would get better grades if he simply applied himself. He had taken her words quite literally, _applying_ himself to her body right in the middle of the school library. She had to promise him that she'd find a way to get him to learn the material just so he'd stop his talented hands from starting something they both really couldn't finish in the quiet space.

"_But_," she said, shaking away the memory, "that was before I came down with this unknown disease." She went to grab the book again, huffing out a breath when he once again pulled it out of her reach. "Fine. Quiz me. See if I care."

Puck smiled triumphantly as Rachel made her way back into bed, throwing the sheet and covers over herself like they were some hermetic barrier. The fabric was a poor shield at best, doing nothing more than making him miss the view of her bare, tanned legs.

Rachel had looked like a troll doll when she'd gotten laryngitis last year, but today she actually looked kind of hot. She'd covered herself up like a nun for school, but in the comfort of her own home she was walking around in a tight tank top and a sorry excuse for a pair of short shorts. It would have been nice if she wasn't supposed to talk still, but he'd take what he could get.

"You know," he began charmingly, closing the book with a snap and looking up at her, "there's something you won't find in this book that could be beneficial to you right now."

"Oh really?" She asked skeptically, rolling her eyes while snuggling deeper into her mattress and pillows. "What's that, Professor Puckerman?"

He paused, liking the sound of that. "That was kind of hot."

She scowled at him but he didn't see. His eyes had closed for just a moment, images of Rachel in a sluttier than usual schoolgirl outfit and him wearing some tweed jacket or a stupid vest like Mr. Schue. She'd lean on the desk provocatively and beg him to change her grade so she wouldn't lose her scholarship, and he'd tell her he would - on one condition.

Puck's eyes shot open, the fantasy stored away for later discussion. "You might not know this, but there are a lot of health benefits to sex." As expected, Rachel let out a low groan, but he forged on. "Did you know that it actually boosts your immune system?"

"I repeat, 'Are you serious?'"

"As a heart attack," he pushed himself off her desk chair, resting his fists into the foot of her bed before slowly lowering to sit, "which is just another issue, as well as a stroke, that is scientifically proven to be lessened by frequent coitus."

"Coitus?" Rachel asked comically, wondering when he'd replaced his usual "boning" and "fucking" with the more appropriate euphemism. "So you _have_ been studying."

She figured as long as she was joking with him she could ignore the predatory look he tossed her way. There was no denying the fact that he exuded sex appeal, but that didn't mean he was irresistible. They'd been going out long enough now that she should definitely be able to display a certain amount of restraint when it came to his advances.

Right?

"I'm ready for an oral exam," he growled teasingly, dragging the blanket away from her body slowly, watching in fascination as every new inch of exposed skin came into sight. Rachel was tiny, but she was all legs. The tanned skin seemed to go on forever, and once the covers were out of his way, Puck couldn't help but reach out and massage the heated skin. She responded with a sigh, and he knew then that he was getting close to breaking her.

"Sex also helps you sleep, and I'm sure the doctor told you to rest."

Even with her eyes closed, Rachel scoffed, thinking his assessment was just further evidence that her fathers should demand their co-pay back from Dr. I-Went-to-Medical-School-in-the-Bahamas. But, knowing they were once again entering dangerous territory, she decided to continue her teasing. Otherwise she'd be forced to focus on the way his biceps moved as he stroked her feet and calves, and no good could come from that.

"First Professor Puckerman, now Doctor Puckerman." Rachel shook herself lightly from the daze he'd put her in, opening her eyes and smiling. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"Let's find out," he leered, finally growing tired enough with all the coy flirting that he just pushed himself forward, his body hovering over hers as his lips moved across the skin of her neck.

"Noah!" Rachel chastised, squirming to try to push him away but only managing to make him apply more pressure. "I'm sick!"

"Were you not listening? This will help."

"Noah, I'm all sweaty and my throat is still sort of sore and …"

"You're still sexy."

"What?" Rachel shook her head even though he wasn't bothering to move away from the crook of her neck. "I am _not_ sexy. Not like this. There are tissues everywhere and ..."

"Sex also boosts self-esteem," he commented while switching his attention from the right side of her neck to her left side, halting Rachel's lengthy list of all the reasons they shouldn't engage in sexual activities. "And considering the fucking hottest girl on the planet just said she wasn't sexy, I think it is my civic duty to prove her otherwise."

All logical thought left her mind and body at that point, her back arching up into him just as his one hand grazed across the fabric of her tank top. Before she started dating him, Rachel might have argued with _anyone_ who had said that last line, especially him. He was a player who knew the game and that was a very loaded compliment to a girl with as much insecurity as Rachel.

But now, nearly three months into their relationship, Rachel didn't just fall for it, she believed him. He'd been faithful since that first time in the gym, and it wasn't just because they had an active sex life. She knew he honestly cared for her – _loved _her – and that security made it possible for her to shed all those other little doubts and fears she had lingering in her system. After that, she felt free to be exactly who she was, knowing he'd be there to accept her crazy side because it also turned out that she had a wild side. It was a side of her that he'd brought out, but one that was truer to herself than anything else.

"Noah," she whimpered, her hands clutching his T-shirt as her pelvis rocked into his. Puck thrust back into her, his loose grip on her side tightening, the fabric of her tank top bunching in his hand. Their lips quickly found one another's, his tongue eagerly demanding entrance. She complied almost instantly, Puck exploring the moist cavern with expert precision.

"You taste good," he groaned, catching his breath and nipping at her soft lips at the same time.

"Orange juice," she mumbled back, sliding her tongue back into his mouth, her hands trailing up his chest and neck to run across the short strands of his Mohawk. There was part of her that knew she should at least _try _to protest again. She should make the effort to assure him (and herself) that she wasn't completely devoid of willpower. If he was going to be the dangerous one, then she _had_ to be the cautious one.

"Wait, wait," she whispered, Puck's lips moving off of hers and moving back to her neck without so much as a pause. He was pretty well-versed in the act of love making with Rachel, and with that came a lot of random interruptions on her part. He preferred the times when it was dirty talk, or just her shouting his name, but with the good came the bad.

"What's up, babe?" He mumbled into her skin, making sure to place delicate kisses in the most sensitive spots above her shoulders just in case she was having second thoughts.

"We … we shouldn't kiss. On the mouth." He felt her nod her head as he continued to assault her neck, as if she was convincing herself. "That way you can get what you want, but you won't get sick."

"What I want?" He scoffed, rolling his hips into hers a little harder. Rachel let out a long, strangled moan, her eyes falling closed. She wanted to lie, but she couldn't. Her dads had told her last night that they were going to be gone for the entire weekend, and ever since then she'd be fantasizing about having the house all to herself with her boyfriend.

"Fine. What we _both_ want."

Puck grinned in vindication, slowly moving his lips down her neck. He dipped his tongue in the hollow of her collarbone, noting the clean smell of her soap as he skimmed his nose down the valley of her breasts. Rachel normally smelled like strawberries (and tasted like it, too, which was all kinds of awesome), but he figured she'd taken probably three extra showers today in some crazy attempt to scrub away her cold. Anyone else would just suck it up and deal with being a little under the weather, but Rachel wasn't like everyone else. She rarely got sick, and when she did, it was always in the mindset of life or death consequences.

When he let his tongue delve into the small hole of her belly button, Rachel swore she felt her fever return. The heat overtook her body, and it only got worse as he moved the tank top up slowly, taking his time to kiss each newly exposed rib. She squirmed under his attention, her hands gripping the sheet.

"I-I think you're going to ace _this_ test."

His bubble of laughter wisped over one of her nipples and Rachel moaned, leaning into him. It was a simple action, something that happened almost every time they got within a foot of one another, but it seemed to push Puck into overdrive. He wrapped his hands around the waistband of her shorts, lifting her legs straight up and taking the tiny piece of clothing off in the process. Rachel slowly lowered her legs back down, keeping them together and curving them to one side. He humored her modesty, leaning forward to kiss the protruded hip bone while his hand grabbed her knee. He lifted the limb up and over to the other side of his body, knowing she wouldn't protest now that she wasn't "on display."

Rachel sighed dreamily as he skimmed his nose over the line of her pelvic muscle, her legs spreading even wider for him. She could feel his smile on her skin, but her admonishment came out as another moan as soon as he kissed the very corner of the v-shape before moving to her inner thigh. Sex was always amazing between them, but she loved when he went slow. It wasn't something they normally got to do, but when they did it always seemed special. They'd exchanged the three magic words more than once, but there was something about moments like this that made it all more real.

Maybe it was because they rarely were able to do it on a bed.

Aside from the few times they'd made it home from school in enough time that they could run up to her room and screw before her fathers came home, they normally had to rely on much different locales for their trysts. Puck's house was off limits because of his mother's erratic work schedule, plus he had a small twin bed and his little sister did not understand the merits of knocking. So it was usually his truck, the school, the park, or the one wonderful but disgusting time in the woman's restroom at the mall. In the bed, though, it almost made it more meaningful. Intimate.

"Mmmmm." Puck slid his tongue over her folds, teasing the tender flesh with his pain-staking patience. Rachel kept trying to lean into him, but he just stayed just out of reach, only giving her exactly what he wanted to at that particular moment. It wasn't much easier on him, but it was worth it to wait and hear her beg for more. For all his talk about loving it when she would just shut up for a few seconds, he loved her voice. He had developed an ear for the different pitches, knew exactly what she was trying to convey by just the simplest of noises. And while there was no arguing that she was Broadway-bound, no one knew just how poetically vocal she could be but him.

"Noah, please," she pleaded, rolling her hips and calling out when he finally gave in to her wishes. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, and then she remembered she didn't have to be so quiet. They were alone, and could do this all night. They could fall asleep next to each other and wake up in the middle of the night and do it again.

Time might be no man's friend, but right then it was Rachel Berry's fucking BFF.

"Stop squirming, B." Puck gripped her thighs in his large hands, securing her to one spot while he lifted his head so she could see his eyes. "If I can't kiss you, then I'm going to spend extra time on my second favorite pair of lips."

She wanted to call him repulsive and childish. She wanted to tell him that he was arrogant and incorrigible. But even _her_ vast vocabulary seemed to disappear the second his lips returned to her most sensitive area. She barely managed a petulant stare before her eyelids fell closed and her head tilted back on the pillow. It had taken her a long time to get comfortable with this particular sexual act, but it was hard to ignore all the wonderful feelings it spurred when he did it.

Puck's tongue caressed Rachel's folds in a practiced, rhythmic pattern. He spent some time kissing the area, some time teasing the area, and a lot of time enjoying the area. He considered himself a self-taught expert when it came to video games and women, and this particular avenue was an erotic mix of both of them. Much like in a game, a certain sound or reaction from Rachel was dependent on the way he moved his tongue. For instance, she let out long, drawn out moans when he licked slowly, swirling his tongue around her clit. However, she let out fast, strangled gasps if he probed the area and flicked or nipped at the small bundle of nerves.

"F-fuuck, Noah."

And then there were times when he won the game by mixing between the two.

Rachel breathed out, collapsing into the mattress and squeezing her eyes shut tightly. She pressed the palm of her hand into his forehead, forcing him away but giving him the best view ever. Below only to doing her and annoying her, watching her completely lose it was one of his most favorite things. Maybe it was because he was a man or maybe it was because Rachel never liked to lose control, but Puck couldn't get enough of it.

Just when Rachel felt like her feet were coming back down to Earth, she felt his middle finger penetrate her and gasped out all over again. Her eyes shot open and he stared back with a wide, arrogant smile, adding another finger and pumping into harder and deeper than his tongue ever could. She must have pulled off the impatient, needy look she was aiming for, because he eventually extracted his fingers. Then he surprised her by inserting his index finger in his mouth, sucking on the digit like there had been cheesy Doritos residue stuck on it and not … her.

Intrigued, she lifted onto her elbows, her chest rising and falling harshly while she continued to stare at him. Slowly, he extended his hand out toward her, Rachel's eyes crossing as she focused on the wet digit. Hesitantly, her tongue peaked out and brushed against the pad of his middle finger, eliciting a quiet moan from both of them. She tasted surprisingly citrusy, good enough for her to spread her lips and take his entire finger into her mouth. Slowly moving from base to tip, Rachel removed the rest of herself from the digit before being tackled back into the mattress.

Puck couldn't help himself, sliding his tongue into her mouth with abandon. He could still taste the orange juice and sort of tasted the strawberries, too, but at that moment he couldn't get over the taste of Rachel on her own lips. She was squirming and trying to tell him that he was going to get sick, but he couldn't care less. He was so turned on at that moment that he could barely get himself out of his boxers, moving his erection to rest between her thighs for a split second before he thrust into her entrance.

He knew he could take his time, knew there weren't going to be any interruptions tonight, but he couldn't stop his hips from rocking into hers with little regard to savoring the moment. It was never his intention for this to be a one-time thing, so he simply lifted Rachel's legs up over his shoulders and tried to silently make her see it his way. Whether it was because she was equally aroused or because she was just happy that he'd stopped kissing her (and therefore reduced his risk of illness), she complied with his wishes, moving her hips in sync with his.

They'd been at this long enough that she'd grown accustomed to the movements. It was like learning a dance routine. There were the standard moves, the difficult steps, and then the crowd-pleasers. She knew if she tilted her hips up that Puck would hit her G-spot in just the right way that she'd see stars. She knew that if she circled her hips, he got impatient and would thrust harder. And she knew, if she showcased her flexibility in any regard, he went nuts.

Puck was already balls deep when she slid her one legs down and under him, moving the other up high in the air. He hugged the limb close, slamming into her core harder while struggling to keep his eyes open. The tightening had started a few seconds ago, and he could feel it spreading through his veins. It was a feeling he associated with drinking whiskey - the same warm, burning feeling as it slid down your throat that was both tortuous and glorious at the same time.

Rachel called out in ecstasy as his pelvic bone created just the right amount of friction, the second orgasm managing to hit her harder than the first. She could feel every atom of her body explode, and in that could also feel all of him react to her undoing. He throbbed inside of her until eventually his posture sagged and he exhaled deep, staggered breaths. Her leg fell back to the side almost as soon as he released her to lie next to her.

"How are you feeling?" He asked casually while regaining his breath, wrapping one arm around her as the other hand came up to wipe some sweat from his brow. "Better?"

She giggled lightly, still a little out of breath. "Better."

"Good." He smirked when she rolled her eyes, kissing her forehead lightly, wetting his dry lips and tasting her own sheen of sweat.

The two were quiet for a long moment, Rachel eventually sighing comfortably as Puck trailed his index finger slowly up and down her arm. If it hadn't been for the effect of her naked body nestled against his equally bare frame, the scene would have ended just like any typical romantic chick flick. But this wasn't a movie, and Puck wasn't some fucking pansy.

He had a mission.

"You should still probably stay hydrated," he said absently, moving to sit up and retrieve his boxers even as a million impure thoughts were going through his head. He wasn't sure what vegan whipped cream would taste like, but he had a feeling he wouldn't care as long as it was on her body. "Let's go downstairs and see if we can't find something to get your lips wet."


	4. Inhale the Burn

**Author's Note:** Somewhat of a drive-by update (meaning that I'm running in and out and didn't even look to edit it before posting. So, preemptive apologies). A million thanks to those of you reading and responding. If it weren't for all of you, this would have stopped at just the one part. Now there's like, plot inside the smut and plans and ... it's crazy. So thanks. Special thanks to Jann for the kick of motivation in what can only be described as do-or-die moments. Hopefully this makes you whistle while you work. Haha.

* * *

Rachel walked into the party while it was in full swing, the music loud enough to be heard outside the house increasing so much in volume upon her entrance that she felt her heartbeat shift to accommodate the tune. She was as open-minded as anybody when it came to musical preferences, and had a pretty wide range of personal favorites. But there was something about the thumping of the speakers and the erratic beat of the song that angered her further as she squeezed through the crowd of people to head back to the kitchen.

She liked her beats fast and the bass down low. Got it. Now please move on.

"Rach!" Finn waved his arms high above his head, as if it weren't already possible to see him towering above all the other teenagers circled around the keg. She approached him slowly, pushing her hair back behind her ear as she tilted her head up to look into his eyes.

"I see you aren't the designated driver this evening." His expression changed from an enthusiastic smile to one that was almost guilty, and she had to bite back the warm feeling that spread through her when she realized she still had that effect on him. At that moment, though, it was nice to be reminded that someone still cared about her. _Someone_ had the decency to greet her when she arrived. Alone.

"How was your summer?"

Rachel cocked one eyebrow up. "I saw you last week, Finn. Remember?" That doofy smile that only Finn could pull off as endearing took over his entire face and she laughed. "How long have you been here?"

"Awhile."

Finn gestured with his head to the next room, where Quinn and Santana were arguing over something the two girls probably wouldn't remember tomorrow. Or in the next hour. Rachel's mind momentarily filtered back to the first and only glee party at her house and the resulting implications of all that had happened. She'd eventually gotten over the feeling of Britney's puke dripping over her skin, but Rachel swore she'd never get trashed like that again. The others apparently hadn't made the same pact.

"Have you seen Noah?" She finally asked, unable to avoid the question any longer. Anymore time spent with Finn and she'd have to ask how things were between him and Quinn. Even if she were still in a stable relationship (stable being a word she used loosely at the moment), Rachel was pretty sure she didn't want to hear those details.

"Uh." Finn's eyes quickly moved off of her face, scanning the crowd absently. If she didn't know him so well, she'd swear he was actually looking for the man in question instead of just avoiding her. Unfortunately, she knew him _and_ she knew that face. Despite nearly six months of barely speaking to his once best friend, Finn was still caught in the "bros before hoes" honor system.

"Got it. Thanks." Rachel stole the red plastic cup right from his hand, tipping the drink back and swallowing the contents in one gulp. She replaced the cup back into his loose grip, grabbing another full glass almost in the same second. She touched his forearm gently and gave a reassuring smile before making her way out of the kitchen and through the next few rooms.

The music had switched from Dev's song to The Pussycat Dolls, which was entirely too perfect for Britney and her current state of intoxication. Rachel had to pry herself between the swarm of football players and pretty much every other guy surrounding the wannabe stripper. Artie was noticeably absent, but then again he'd been that way ever since Britney and Santana decided to make their girl time a little more official. Rachel understood the two were pretty serious about one another, but that didn't mean they weren't playing up the whole "bisexual" thing during these parties just to keep their popularity up as high as it could be.

After several years being at the bottom of the totem pole, Rachel actually sympathized with the pair. It was hard to be ridiculed for doing something you loved, but Rachel imagined it was even harder to be teased and tormented because of _whom_ you loved. In fact, now that they were starting their senior year in a couple of days, she figured that was the most likely explanation for her current predicament. After all, while she'd seen less slushie facials and shoves into lockers, being her boyfriend didn't do much for Puck's reputation – even after the whole janitor's closet fiasco.

The sound of loud whoops and hollering diverted Rachel's steps from upstairs to instead down the hallway, past a few closed bedrooms and a full bathroom. The door was wide open and girls were puking in the toilet and the sink while still managing to hold a conversation about how this was the best party ever. Until next weekend, Rachel guessed.

"Ante up, ladies and germs," a faceless student said just as Rachel entered the overly crowded back room. She didn't even recognize half the people in the space, and was sure there had to be students from another school here considering all the bodies she had to plow through just to make it back to the room. Lima was too small to have Santana's entire house filled with kids just from McKinley. However, there was at least _one_ student from McKinley in the room besides herself, and he was sitting at the head of the round felt green table with a dazed but comfortable expression on his face.

Directly across from him was a girl with bigger breasts than Rachel felt were natural, but she had to assume they were because the young lady (again, a term used loosely) had just taken off her shirt and thrown it onto the other clothes piled up in the middle. While some of the others simply tossed in a sock or a shoe, this girl was confident in every way of the word, and had eyes only for Rachel's boyfriend.

"So you're a football player?" She asked absently, twirling her long, curly blonde hair between her fingers as the dealer passed out five cards for each inebriated player. She lifted her hand up and evaluated the cards, her eyes looking just over the top of them. "What's your favorite position?"

Puck grinned charmingly, the room erupting in more chatter. He still hadn't noticed Rachel was in the room, which might have been why he let the question go until it came time to reveal his hand. Then, widening his arrogant smile while the others groaned, he looked right into the wide eyes of his affection.

"Threesome."

Everyone cheered and the girl actually managed to blush before tossing her hair back and picking the next piece of clothing she was going to bet. Puck leaned forward to grab his previously missing sock back, and noticed a tiny brunette wedged between two fullbacks. He noticed the tears in her eyes just as she turned to leave, Puck cursing softly to himself before getting up and following her.

"Leaving already?" The blonde purred before he could completely leave the room, trapping him between her body and the doorframe. He'd had a few shots and a couple beers already, which was why he might have let the girl press against him instead of just pushing past her. Her hair was crunchy and dull looking, she wore way too much makeup, and she smelled like the inside of a woman's magazine.

She wasn't Rachel.

"Bones," Puck called loudly, grabbing the attention of one of his football teammates. The tall running back came barreling over, eager enough to meet Puck's friend that he nearly knocked over two people just to get to the door faster. He quickly made introductions – something eloquent like, 'Bones, this is slut. Slut, this is Bones – before moving down the hallway and back into the heart of the party.

His head throbbed while he stood next to the sound system, his eyes a little blurry but able to make out the faces of those in the living room. He almost thought Rachel would have left, but apparently something had stopped her. Or, rather, _someone_.

"He's just trying to cheer her up, Puck." He glared to his side as Quinn approached, her lips close to his ear so he could actually hear her. Her breath felt … wrong … on his skin and he actually shook her away. His gaze went back to the pair on the makeshift dance floor, his eyes in slits as he watched Finn stumble around his girlfriend. The beat was loud and demanding, but the former flames were keeping their distance from one another, dancing merrily.

"You really have changed, haven't you?" Puck scoffed at Quinn's remark, turning his eyes back to _his_ former flame. "The old Puck would have been mid-beating by now."

"You think I'm worried about Finnessa taking my girl?" He snorted in laughter, shaking his head while moving his eyes back to Rachel and Finn. Rachel's hands were resting comfortably on Finn's forearms, each of her thumbs caressing the skin of his inner elbow. She had a bright smile on her face and the tears from before were all but gone.

"I would be." Puck again glared at Quinn, the short blonde giving him those all-knowing eyes that he used to – and still did – hate. "Whatever you did, she was pretty upset."

"I didn't _do_ anything," Puck growled.

"Of course you didn't." Quinn crossed her arms in front of her chest, rolling her eyes at him. Puck knew Quinn and he knew she could care less whether him and Rachel were fighting or made up. What she _did_ care about, however, was Rachel messing up Quinn's plan to rule the school this coming year. She had eyes on Homecoming and Prom king and queen, as well as class couple and a handful of other senior superlatives.

"If you are so worried about losing Finn, maybe you should try putting out," he snarled before leaving her alone at the speaker.

Finn must have sensed Puck's proximity, the tall teen suddenly looking up from Rachel's chest. He might be a few inches taller, but Puck was considerably more built and quicker. With just one look, Finn mumbled some lame excuse in Rachel's ear and then backed away in the opposite direction. Rachel didn't protest Finn's abrupt exit, sensing Puck behind her before his body enveloped hers. She tried not to shiver when his hands slowly rand down her arms, but she couldn't help the goosebumps that surfaced. His body fits hers like a glove, sliding over her effortlessly. She held her breath when his hands moved to her hips, his head dipping down so his mouth was right by her ear.

"Wanna dance?"

She never expected him to apologize, but his question caught her off guard. She thought he would ask if she was still mad or maybe even wonder why she was upset to begin with. He certainly didn't seem to have a clue when he'd called to tell her that she'd have to find her own way to the party. And she'd already been close to blowing a gasket before that.

Puck used his hands to move her hips with his, answering for her as another fast-paced song started. His teeth grazed the sensitive nape of her neck, Puck placing wet kisses on her shoulders until her head sagged back. The rhythm of the song pumped into their veins, their bodies moving absently to the tune.

Rachel ground her ass into Puck's front, the song requiring a certain amount of friction. Her small hands gripped his, removing them from her hips to rise at their sides. She circled her hips and hinged her torso forward, flipping her hair forward and then back before moving back to press into his chest. She slid tortuously slow down the length of his body, taking time to swirl around all the appropriate erogenous zone before she sprung back up to her original position

"You trying to kill me?"

Rachel smiled over her shoulder at his strangled question. "Just showing you what Blondie can't offer."

"Maybe you should take off _your_ shirt." He circled their arms tightly around her waist, holding her close even while they continued moving together. "Then I could make a fair comparison."

Rachel slowed her movements to a stop, turning and facing Puck with fire in her eyes. "I believe the correct response from the boyfriend should be that there is no comparison."

Puck straightened his posture, trying to hide the surprise from his expression. What just happened? One minute they were practically fucking in the middle of a crowded room, and now she had stepped far enough away that they weren't even touching. What happened to the lap dance?

"What the Hell is your problem?"

"You have no idea, do you?" Rachel more than made up for the distance between them, letting her voice carry. "I told you tonight was important to me. I wanted us to spend it together."

"We _are_ together," he yelled back defensively, noticing the crowd of students around them increasing in size.

"I had to call Mercedes to bring me. And then you weren't even waiting for me. You were too busy _eye fucking_ some rival cheerleader."

"I was just playing poker," he answered on a sigh, noting her word choice warily. She hadn't been there long, but he knew now that she managed to have at least three drinks. Three drinks made Rachel bolder, but two more and he'd have to carry her home.

"Oh, so everyone was just taking off their clothes for _fun_." The way she drawled out the last word managed to piss him off more than the argument itself. It was bad enough they were having the fight with the whole school as an audience, but Puck knew they hadn't even scratched the surface of why Rachel was actually mad.

"It started out as poker," he said evenly, doing his best to keep his anger in check. "Then I started kicking ass and they decided they'd rather lose clothes than money."

"So … it was just good, clean fun?"

"Yeah," he breathed in relief, smiling that she finally seemed to understand.

"Well, fine." Rachel nodded her head once. "I want in."

Puck's smile quickly faded, his feet moving to follow Rachel as she made her way back to the room even though his brain hadn't quite caught up yet. Many of the same people that were playing with Puck were still in the room, all of them looking up when the couple barged in with little grace. He tried to say something, continue their conversation, but Rachel turned her torso and placed her hand over his mouth. Then, without a second thought, she turned back to address the table.

"Room for one more?" Those around the table passed a look of confusion between each other, some not knowing who Rachel was and others knowing exactly who Puck was. Puck had never been prouder of his reputation than at that moment. _Finally_, it was doing him some good.

"We already started," the dealer finally answered.

"What do I have to take off to get in?"

"Oh well. Maybe next game."

The end of Puck's sentence came out almost the same time Rachel's question ended, causing him to choke on his inhale. His eyes practically burned a hole in the back of her head, but she didn't turn. She simply waited for the table to silently debate her question, and then raised her shirt high over her head and tossed it into the middle of the table. Her and the blonde slut from before shared a look, Rachel relishing in her own dose of whistles and cat calls.

"W-we're playing f-five card draw," the dealer stammered, the other guys practically tripping over themselves to make room for Rachel. One guy was only wearing his underwear and a sock, but everyone else was at least moderately clothed. Puck mentally tallied Rachel's remaining clothes – two knee socks, her skirt, a camisole with what looked to be no bra, and _hopefully_ underwear (seriously? When had he ever prayed for _that_?) – all while forcefully grabbing a stool and making himself a spot across from her.

The two stared each other down, Rachel's jaw set tightly while Puck's clenched uncontrollably. His girlfriend barely knew the fundamentals of Go Fish and now she was going to play strip poker? This was going to be worse than when she'd tried to learn how to play Call of Duty at the beginning of the summer – a terrible, long night that only ended when Puck distracted her with something they _both_ were good at. He smiled, the proverbial light bulb going off above his head.

"Fold," he announced when his turn came, throwing away what was actually a decent hand. He had a pair of kings, which was pretty good in a group of seven. Rachel squinted her eyes, trying to read him but failing when the others demanded to know whether she was in or out. Puck raised his eyebrows, smiling wider when she announced she needed two cards. The others knew it didn't really matter now that Puck had folded, but Rachel was too competitive to understand anything besides winning.

"Watch out, boys," she announced as if there weren't three other girls at the table, "I've got all the same color."

Rachel revealed her hand with a bright, wide smile. The red of the cards matched the slight tint of color on her cheeks, flushed from the body heat circulating in the room as well as the amount of alcohol she had consumed in haste. But the red would only get darker when the table suddenly burst out laughing, pointing out that the best she had was ace high.

"Puckerman folded, though, so he still loses," the dealer said, shaking his head while everyone tossed back their cards.

"A flush is when you have five of all the same suit. Not color, babe." He rolled his eyes, peeling his shirt from his body with ease while everyone else just kept their same discarded clothes in the pile as their ante.

"Well …"

Rachel trailed off, clearing her throat to push down the embarrassment and the flood of desire she felt course through her. Pairing Puck's pool cleaning business with football two-a-days and he more closely resembled a Greek god than a teenage boy. His bronzed skin somehow managed to shine in the dimly lit room, his perfectly defined muscles toned specifically to torture her. He'd gotten rid of his nipple ring after a mishap this summer regarding her tendency to bite, but he didn't need it. He was still the sexiness man she'd ever laid eyes on.

"I'm amazed you can remember something as complex as the rules and regulations of such an evolving game as poker, Noah," Rachel sneered, focusing on her anger instead of the contours of his chest and abs. "You know, considering."

"Considering what, exactly?"

Rachel lifted her card one by one, noting four cards of the same number with a wide smile. Maybe she didn't know everything about this game, but she knew her hand was almost unbeatable. She ignored his question, asking for one card and waiting while the dealer moved around the table. Puck was the last person this time.

"Fold." He dropped his cards to the table. "Considering _what_?"

"_Considering_," she began in the same snarky tone, "you can't even remember something as remedial as the date and any perceived significance it might have."

"You lose again, Puckerman," the dealer announced grimly, catching on to Puck's plan as quickly as the other guys. "Maybe you should sit the next one out."

"Can it, four eyes." Puck ignored the dealer, kicking off his shoes and adding them to the pile. He kept his gaze on Rachel, watched her win the hand but realize that winning wasn't necessarily the point of strip poker. They shared another heated stare down, two people actually leaving the game while the cards were being dealt. "Fold."

"Me too." Rachel didn't even look at her hand, instead kept Puck's gaze defiantly while managing to wiggle out of her panties. The two guys that had left quickly returned, one knocking over his chair and falling to the ground he'd been so eager to return to the game.

"That's it!" Puck stood up, pointing to the door. "Everyone out."

"Noah! We're in the middle of a game and you are being very rude not to mention completely barbaric and …"

"I'll get to you in a minute," he growled, literally pushing people out the door. The second the last one crossed the threshold, he slammed the door shut, turning back to face his girlfriend. Like a lion stalking his prey, he took slow, pointed steps back toward the table, his palms resting flat on the felt. His shoulders fell down his back, his head moving forward just slightly while his eyes stayed trained on her. "Tell me this whole thing is …"

"This whole thing?" She asked in fake innocence. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Playing strip poker, dancing with Finn …" Puck cleared his throat, pushing the anger back down. "All because I forgot some stupid anniversary?"

"If you can't remember, then I'm certainly not going to tell you." Rachel stood up from her chair, walking around the table and toward the door. They both weren't in the right mindset to having this conversation. Alcohol aside, she could see the desire swimming in his eyes and knew it had to mirror her own. Having sex would only perpetuate the problem. "Maybe I'll see you at school on Monday."

"Wait."

Puck knew better than to let her leave. He pressed his hand into the door, keeping it closed and her trapped all in the same motion. He moved his other arm to settle against the wood, Rachel pressing herself into the door just to put a few extra inches of space between her body and his. He bit back the urge to attack the bare expanse of her neck, still focusing on her words from before.

"I thought I was taking you to school Monday?"

She tried to get away then, but Puck pressed his lower body into her to keep her still. Their eyes met again and in them he saw everything she wasn't saying. She wasn't interested in Finn or taking her clothes off for the entire school. She was scared. School started in a few days and she was worried the same thing that happened between her and Finn last year would happen between them. Those two had shared a wonderful summer together just like he and Rachel had this year, and now they were reaching the same time frame where it all went to Hell.

"Did you know that smell is the strongest sense tied to memory?" He eventually asked, his voice low now to keep their conversation intimate. With the door closed, the back room was far enough away from the stereo that they didn't have to scream in each other's ear just to hear one another. It was like a private cocoon, sheltered from all the drama and debauchery waiting for them on the other side of the door. "You smell like strawberries."

Rachel gasped softly when his lips pressed against her pulse point, her head falling back against the door. She pressed her thighs together tightly, trying to fight through the ache she felt building in her core. Thanks to her spiteful participation in the game of strip poker, she was down to a thin camisole and her skirt and knee socks. She felt utterly exposed in every capacity of the word, his attention to her body and her mind making her breathless.

"Every time I smell strawberries, I think of you." Puck moved to the other side of her neck, paying the other side equal attention. "Remember the weekend before finals?" He moved his knee between her legs, Rachel's hands clutching his triceps when she felt her balance waver slightly. "Orange juice, honey, chocolate … all those smells remind me of you."

She whimpered when he broke away from her, shivering at the loss of his hot rush of breath on her neck while he pushed her shirt above her head. They moaned together when he pressed back into her, the feel of his bare chest on the bare skin of hers sending another jolt straight to her center. Her nipples hardened at the contact, figuratively taking a number in the long list of places Rachel wanted – scratch that, needed – him to touch.

"Sweat," he mumbled against her collarbone, sweeping his tongue into the hollow area before moving to the other side. "Chlorine from the pool and sweat from the gym." Rachel dug her nails into his arm as his breath wisped across her breast. "Grass from the park and dirt from my cleats after baseball practice."

"Noah," Rachel moaned when he finally sucked the tiny bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nipple. She arched into him, rolling her hips against his knee while one hand cascaded down his chest. He felt like he was on fire but she felt goosebumps rise on his skin in her wake.

"Leather from the coatroom at the performing arts gallery," he growled, hiking his knee higher while moving to bathe her other breast with his tongue. Rachel legit had the best tits ever, but she didn't quite take to the compliment the last time he'd said it. So, instead, he just continued his previous thought. "Peppermint, when you were trying to make Finn jealous."

Rachel couldn't take it anymore. He was seriously driving her crazy, and it wasn't a far trip. She'd already been worked up long before this started, their session on the dance floor and the minimal amount of time she spent playing poker more than enough foreplay. In his own Puck way, he had just let her know that he constantly thought about her – that _everything _reminded him of her – and she didn't want to waste another moment thinking about the date he hadn't noticed. She wanted to make another memory.

She pressed her hands to his cheeks, pulling him up to her mouth and devouring him. She allowed herself a few moments of sliding her tongue along his before she moved her focus to her hands. Rachel unbuckled his belt and undid the button and fly of his jeans, eventually pushing against the hard plane of his stomach. They stumbled back awkwardly until the back of Puck's knees hit the swivel office chair Rachel had been aiming for, but their lips never parted. Rachel continued to explore the well-traveled area of his mouth until the last possible second, when she had to bend down to push his jeans and boxers over his hips. She had intended on following the garments to the floor, but Puck gripped her upper arm in one hand and the bottom of her opposite thigh in the other. He slowly dropped to the seat, effortlessly lifting Rachel up enough that her legs were propped up on the arms of the chair.

"Fuck," they both breathed, replacing their lips against one another. Rachel could feel his tip brushing against her clit, and she couldn't help but rock into him. The music from the other room was faint but it still could be heard, and in the erratic beat she found a matching rhythm, bringing them together for a whole different kind of dance.

Puck grunted when their bodies connected, his hands clenching at Rachel's tiny waist. He could tell she was using the song as her basis for movement, and if there wasn't a slow part soon, he was going to blow his load far too quickly. He bit the inside of his cheeks as hard as he could to give at least an extra minute, focusing on the taste of blood instead of the expert sway of her hips or the subtle bounce of her breasts (_right in fucking front of his eyes_). Girl on top was legit the best invention ever, but with Rachel it would also be the death of him. This was a woman who liked to be in control, and with her in the driver's seat, she always went full speed ahead. Sure, it started out with slow, methodical plunges, letting him in millimeter but gloriously painful millimeter, but that never lasted long. Eventually she needed more friction. She wanted everything faster and deeper, alternating between quick, erratic gyrations and shallow up and down thrusts. Sometimes she would circle her hips and sometimes she managed to combine all three moves into one, and that's usually when he lost it.

"I'm … I'm going to …" A long squeal replaced the missing word, her eyes shutting tightly.

"Right behind ya, B," he forced out, pushing her frame down for a few more powerful thrusts. He could feel her walls clench around him, the aftershocks of her orgasm triggering his own. Rachel's entire body went limp, her head falling to his shoulder, ragged breaths dancing across his skin. They were both completely and utterly spent.

"Now there's a moment worth remembering."

"Nothing quite like the smell of beer and vomit to get you in the mood," she said, rolling her eyes while lifting her head off his shoulder. Rachel moved to stand, but he gently placed his hands on her hips, keeping them connected by more than just his intense stare. The desire from before was still swirling around the brown depths, but in them Rachel also saw the love that she couldn't quite ignore even in those spiteful moments. He kissed her softly, and then pulled back with his trademark arrogant smirk.

"Happy anniversary."


	5. See the Burn

**Author's Note:** Well, this "one" parter is finally finished. LOL! This story turned into something that was pure smut into something that looks more like flashes of what a Puck/Rachel relationship could actually look like if it weren't constricted by a pesky TV-14 rating. This final chapter is probably the most plot driven, but I really tried to make up for it with some extra spice. So, please enjoy, and please tell me what you think! Thanks so much!

* * *

Puck groaned and shifted in his seat, Rachel's excited but annoying voice getting clearer and clearer as she poked him further and further out of his peaceful slumber. He could still feel the gentle sway of the bus as it hummed along the highway, so he knew they weren't even close to their destination yet and there was no reason he couldn't sleep for at least another hour.

"Noooah," she sing-songed, pressing her index finger a little more deeply into his bicep until he pried one of his eyes open. He was met with her wide, beaming smile, and the lens of her brand new video camera. "We're almost there. Aren't you excited?"

"Thrilled."

"Noah," she admonished his unenthusiastic tone quickly, demanding he be a little more chipper. "Say a little something into the camera."

"A little something into the camera," he muttered, shutting his eyes again while turning to his side so his back was to her. He could hear her sigh and fiddle with the buttons on the camera, groaning when the device clearly didn't do what she intended. Her dads had bought her the camera as a good luck present (because that shit actually went down in Rachel's world) for Nationals, but she'd been complaining about the new technology for the past day. The one she used to tape her MySpace videos was fucking ancient, but it was simple. Rachel-proof, as he liked to call it.

"Finn!"

Rachel bumped into Puck's shoulder as she lifted to her knees, leaning against the back of her seat as she extended the camera behind her. Finn and Quinn called dibs on the back of the bus almost the second after they'd won Regionals, Puck and Rachel having to suffice with the next row up. The joke, however, was on all of them because Mr. Schuester pulled a rope-a-dope and ended up sitting in the back instead of the front like the teachers normally did. Apparently when he said no funny business, he meant it.

"I'm seriously under the impression that you are a robot, Rachel," Quinn groaned, lifting her head from Finn's shoulder as the tall teen startled awake. "Didn't you tell me when we boarded the bus that you didn't sleep at all last night?"

"I was too excited," she explained, as if everyone already didn't know that. Rachel let out a blood-curdling squeal the second they'd crossed the Ohio state line, and she hadn't really shut up since. No one would say it, but they all swore the bus driver had started going faster just to get to the hotel quicker.

"What's up, Rach?" Finn finally asked, bringing the focus back to her original outburst.

"This camera. It is broken. It won't shut off."

"Hear that, Puckerman?" Quinn smirked even though he wasn't in her line of vision. Hunched over in his chair with a coat now tossed over his head, he wasn't really in _anyone's_ vision. "Rachel must be broken, too."

"I said it won't shut off. Not that it won't shut up," Rachel defended quickly then frowned, realizing she might have made matters worse. "I'm not a robot."

"That's right. Robots turn off every once in awhile. Rach is always turned on." Puck snuck one hand out from under his shield, smacking her ass loudly.

Rachel ushered his hand away, quickly sitting back in her chair after Mr. Schuester asked them to behave. Almost all of them were eighteen by now (Puck closer to nineteen), but they apparently weren't mature enough to make it through one bus trip from Ohio to New York without getting in a little trouble. Santana, for instance, had already been lectured about her supposed plans for this evening after one of the chaperones overheard her talking about slipping out of the hotel to club-hop with Britney.

"All fixed," Finn said, his hand reaching between the two seats and managing to knock the camera right against Puck's temple. "Sorry, dude."

Puck groaned, forcefully grabbing the small recorder from the other teen's grip. Despite Rachel's best effort to conserve the battery, Puck flipped the camera back on, playing with the zooming feature and night vision for a few seconds before turning the lens onto his girlfriend. She was staring anxiously outside the window, her eyes wide and matching her smile as she turned and faced him.

"Say a little something into the camera," he repeated, his voice low from a mixture of sleep and an attempt to share a somewhat private conversation with her.

"Hello, world!" She waved at the small device, leaning in so close that Puck swore he could see the pores on her face. He tried to zoom out, but instead had to back away slightly so the camera would adjust its focus.

"Ready to win Nationals, babe?" She grinned wildly, nodding her head like he'd just asked a small kid if they wanted ice cream for dinner. "Ready to show Julliard what they're missing?"

She nodded again, though this time it wasn't instantaneous, slow enough that he knew she was starting to get nervous about her audition. The group had a couple of free days to spend in New York, and by that it meant that they had a couple of days where they had plans to do the typical New York touristy stuff as a group. The Statue of Liberty, Broadway, Central Park … the group wanted to cram as much as they could into the small trip because for many of them it was going to be the last time they ever got to visit the bustling metropolis.

Mr. Schuester, however, made arrangements for a few of the students to use some of the time to visit Julliard. Almost everyone else had already heard from their school of choice – Mercedes the only one who'd ventured out of Ohio - but Julliard wasn't just any school. It was a dream school – a dream that wasn't just shared by Rachel. Britney and Mike were also auditioning, set to go one right after the other tomorrow after practice for their dancing, and then Rachel would perform the next morning as a singer. The Nationals competition was the same night, so she wasn't exactly being dramatic when she said it was the most important and defining day of her young life.

"You're still coming, right?" She asked quietly, her voice full of worry.

He lowered the camera so he could look into her eyes instead of into the small screen, smiling softly at the wave of relief he saw wash over her face. "I've been assured that I won't actually be able to look up Lady Liberty's dress, so what's the point?"

She giggled softly at his reasoning, resting her head against his shoulder. Rachel inhaled a long breath, slowly releasing it while watching Puck turn the camera off. She could feel his breath skim across the bare skin of her shoulder, her eyes closing at the subtle contact. Aside from one stop for food and a couple of gas refills, they'd been enclosed in the large vehicle for ten-plus hours and the lack of space was starting to wear on the couple. They'd only managed to steal a few chaste kisses here and there before someone would interrupt them in one way or another.

Puck nudged her head back with his, resting his lips on hers with a groan. Rachel leaned back into the embrace, his torso following her slow decent as his hand hooked under her knees to lift them up to rest up and over his lap. Her hands snaked under the thin cotton of his T-shirt, Rachel letting her nails scratch over the contours of his chest. She sighed when she felt Puck's hand drift higher and higher up her thigh, the other meandering under her shirt and headed toward her breasts.

"Hand check!" Mr. Schuester suddenly announced, tension in his voice as he sprung from his seat and looked around the bus for all the occupants' hands. Puck and Rachel reluctantly raised their arms, lifting back to a seated position and passing a glance between the two of them when Mr. Schuester began to walk toward the front of the bus. Sam hadn't raised his hands, but he was probably just asleep or had headphones in.

"Is there anywhere you two won't have sex?" Quinn asked bitterly, dropping her hands and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Temple," they both answered, laughing lightly that they'd thought of the same thing.

"Tell me you've figured out the room situation by now," Finn whispered as he leaned closer to Puck's chair. "Everyone knows what to do?"

"They should." Puck grinned at Rachel, resting his hand on her thigh as she smiled back, both of them a little flush but slowly regulating their breaths.

Mr. Schuester had tried to be clever in arranging the rooms this year, pairing certain people together to eliminate the possibility of anyone switching rooms. But while Puck didn't spend a lot of time paying attention in class, he certainly wasn't a slouch when it came to assuring a hotel room with his hot girlfriend. All it took was a master plan where the girls were in charge of the "real" room keys and the men were in charge of the "actual" room keys. Then there wouldn't be a slip up like the senior field trip to Chicago where some stupid girl ended up blowing it for everyone.

Well, everyone except Puck and Rachel, who didn't get to do it in the comfy hotel room but still managed to find a new appreciation for art at a certain world-renowned museum.

"Hand, Puck," Mr. Schuester warned when he came back to his seat, noticing its dangerous location on Rachel's bare thigh.

"I gave up drinking for you, Mr. Schue. I'm not giving up sex."

"Noah!" Rachel turned about five shades of red, pushing his hand away and scooting as close to the window as she could.

"Making love?" He tried to fix the situation but knew it was useless. There were two types of mad Rachel, one that led to mind-blowing make up sex and one that sealed the gates until he was on the floor groveling. Despite Mr. Schuester's bemused expression, Puck figured Rachel was closer to the second one. And instead of opening his mouth and possibly (quite possibly, in fact) making it worse, he decided to ignore it completely and hope it went away. "Any last minutes changes to the set, Mr. Schue?"

"'Fraid not, Puck. You ready for your solo?"

Puck shrugged complacently, but on the inside his heart skipped a beat. He'd done solos in glee and even at school performances, but this was for Nationals. This was the biggest venue New Directions had ever played, and _he_ had a solo. It wasn't a whole song, but it was still just him. Not only that, he also had writing credit for the song. On some shitty piece of paper that probably nobody would keep past the next night, his name would be next to the words "soloist" and "writer" instead of what most people expected: "felon".

Well, maybe not most people. He'd come a long way in the past year, pushed mostly by Rachel and her unwavering determination. She had drive unmatched by anyone, and it sort of just rubbed off on him by being her boyfriend. If she was studying and refused to put out, then he didn't really have anything else to do but study, too. If she was working on her music, she'd demand he listen, which turned into _them_ working on music. She made him better simply by proximity, never demanding he change but somehow causing it nonetheless.

"I keep telling him that _he_ should try out for Julliard, too, but he won't budge." Rachel frowned, turning to face both men. "Apparently he already got accepted somewhere, but he won't tell me where."

Puck shrugged again, playing off his secrecy as cute even while Rachel's frown deepened. She hated not knowing what he was planning to do next year, not only because it made her uncomfortable to talk about her plans but because she wasn't sure why his plans were being so heavily guarded. The reply date for almost all colleges had passed just a few weeks ago, but that still meant he had been forced to make a decision. He couldn't wait to see what happened with her, even if that was the plan. So, obviously, he was waiting for her audition before letting her down.

"Hope it's a trade school," Quinn remarked, her tone somewhere between snarky and amused. It was something Rachel had grown used to over the year, the four of them becoming somewhat of an odd group. Without all the relationship drama between all them, though, it was easier for them to be actual friends. At least now that campaigning for prom was done. There was something about the blonde threatening to rip out the brunette's vocal chords that didn't exactly scream best buds, which is why Rachel was pleased that Finn and Quinn had won.

She and Puck weren't even on the ballot, but apparently a lot of people had taken it upon themselves to add their names to the list. Actually, most people put "Puck and that tiny, loud chick" but even the teachers knew who they meant. Luckily it was a non-issue for prom, and homecoming, too. Class couple on the other hand … well, Quinn at least won best smile and best hair. Rachel shouldn't feel bad about winning most likely to succeed, either.

The truth hurt.

"Not all of us can get into OSU on a cheerleading scholarship," Puck partially joked – whether he was making fun of her inability to get into State with her grades alone or if he was still harping on her for rejoining the Cheerios uncertain - accepting her onslaught of verbal attacks about the merits of the "sport" with his trademark grin.

Rachel tried to reprimand him with her stare, but then Artie announced they were crossing into New York and her attention immediately shifted to the window. She enthusiastically waved goodbye to New Jersey and greeted New York with the beginnings of "New York State of Mind." She actually got everyone to join in, even Puck thanks to his soft spot for Frank Sinatra, and the song lasted them until they pulled up to the hotel.

Mr. Schuester checked everyone in and then started handing out the keys. Suddenly, every single student announced they had to use the restroom and couldn't wait. Inside the stalls they exchanged keys as directed by Puck the night before, and when everyone returned to the lobby, they all were ready to go upstairs.

"Santana, apparently there was some mix up with the rooms. You'll be with Tina now, so why don't you two switch keys." Santana remained calm, switching her key with Tina, who looked like a deer in headlights. "And Finn, you're actually going to be bunking with Puck instead of Artie. So why don't all three of you exchange keys." Finn hesitated for just long enough for Mr. Schuester's smile to widen. "That's what I thought. Everyone hand me their keys."

The glee club groaned in unison, handing back over all their keys while Mr. Schuester redistributed all the cards and gave yet another lecture on being on the best behavior. They were his responsibility and they should be old enough that he could trust them and blah blah blah. Puck was, in a word, pissed.

"You're killing me, Schue." Puck tossed a pathetic glance to his side, Rachel's eyes wide when they realized their perfect vacation in New York was quickly spiraling down the drain.

"We meet back here in exactly an hour for dinner and the Broadway show, so please go get settled and change." The teacher watched the kids meander to the hotel elevator before tossing his arm casually around Puck. "It was a valiant effort, Puck. But the only thing you accomplished was earning the room right next to mine."

"Sex is a stress reliever, Mr. Schuester," Puck tried to reason, earning a horrified look from his teacher and another loud reprimand from Rachel. "I'm just thinking about the team."

"I think I'll take my chances."

And that's pretty much how the rest of the week went. Puck roomed with Sam, who was basically the only person in the whole glee club that Puck still couldn't stand. Trouty Lips (his nickname courtesy of Santana before she left him for Britney) had taken a backseat in almost everything he did at McKinley after losing Quinn to Finn way back when, dating some other cheerleader this year just to stay out of the nagging spotlight. He didn't even try out for football since everyone knew Finn would be the quarterback, and ended up getting a baseball scholarship to play for some school in Toledo.

Next to them was, in fact, Mr. Schuester and Coach Beiste, both of which who came knocking on the doors to check the rooms at random times of the night. Rachel's room was on the complete opposite side of the floor, guarded by another set of chaperones and the one person in the glee club who probably didn't want to help him get laid, Lauren. It was a conspiracy, Puck was sure, but their schedule was so busy that he almost didn't notice. Without Rachel's taunt little body teasing him at every turn, Puck actually focused on other stuff, which might have been the reason they ended up winning Nationals.

The celebration dinner was off the hook, Mr. Schuester making good on his promise to buy sparkling cider for everyone. He gave a touching speech to the seniors, who were really the core of the group. He wouldn't say it, but he knew the glee club wouldn't win the title next year. He wasn't just losing almost all his guys, but he was losing Rachel. Without her voice, her leadership, the group was doomed. She was the one who convinced Kurt to come back to McKinley for his senior year. She was the one who talked Karofsky and some of the other football players to join. She recruited all the new members.

She _was_ glee club.

"Let's get out of here," Rachel suddenly whispered, her hand pressing urgently into Puck's thigh. "Follow my lead."

Right on cue, tears began streaming down Rachel's cheeks. She kept a watery smile on her face as she explained that the day had just been so emotional from her Julliard audition to the Nationals competition and she was just exhausted. Puck watched in awe as she asked if he could take her back to the hotel room, and Mr. Schuester considered saying no but had apparently removed the stick out of his butt after their win.

Game on.

The two teens practically ran back to the hotel room, Rachel's hand gripping Puck's tightly as they crossed the busy streets of New York. She wasn't sure what came over her, but she figured it was the seventy-two plus hours without any real sexual contact with her boyfriend. Their relationship wasn't based solely on sex, but she couldn't deny that it was the best way she knew to feel close to him. And it was really the only way she could think to end such an amazing day, the only way to make it even better than it already had been.

The second the elevator door opened, the two tumbled inside, Puck pressing his body insistently against hers. "Fuck, I've missed you."

"Me … me too," Rachel stuttered, her hands clutching at the lapels of Puck's jacket and pulling him close to kiss him senseless. They were still in the outfits they wore for Nationals, him in a basic tux with colorful vest and tie and her in a matching dress. Puck was attractive in almost everything he wore, but it was especially true when he dressed up. He looked so sophisticated, so mature. So much like the man she saw inside him when he was still acting like a boy.

"Do you think Schue will kill me if I rip this fuckin' thing right off you?"

Rachel simply moaned in response, pushing herself harder into his body, her tongue dancing across his. The bell on the elevator rung, but neither teen made a move to leave the confined space. Puck hiked Rachel up, her back resting on the wall while her legs wrapped around his waist. His hands massaged her breasts before moving to her ass, holding her tightly against him and eventually moving out of the elevator.

"My room," she mumbled against his lips, digging into her purse absently. "Leave your key on the ground for Lauren."

Puck did as instructed, pressing Rachel against her door so he could reach back for his wallet and retrieve his key. He tossed the key carelessly to the ground, grabbing the extended card for Rachel's room from her hand and jamming it into the slot. Rachel heard the beep and pressed down on the handle, giggling as they practically fell into the room. With a little more grace, Puck found her bed (the neat one) and dropped her down to the mattress.

"My phone!" Rachel screeched as the dull ringtone cut through the otherwise quiet space, halting Puck's ministrations in her wake. She sprung from the mattress and crawled across the floor to where she dropped her purse, opening the tiny bag and yanking out her phone. "It's them!"

Puck watched her inhale a deep breath, answering the phone in a tone so professional that no one would expect she was only eighteen, and just about to engage in illicit behavior with her boyfriend. She stood and paced the room a few times, eventually stopping at the large window that overlooked the city. Needing to keep himself busy just so he wouldn't start freaking out like her, Puck grabbed Rachel's video camera from the night stand, recording her reaction when, he guessed, Rachel was told she was accepted.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you … you made the right decision! I will most definitely …" she continued talking as she turned to Puck, who had her camera in one hand and was using the other to signal she should wrap it up. Rachel had a tendency to ramble on top of a tendency to stick her foot in her mouth, so she silently agreed and expressed her gratitude one more time before ending the conversation. The second she pressed end on her phone, Puck met her halfway and caught her as she jumped into his arms, screaming giddily. "I made it, Noah! I made it!"

"I don't know why you are so surprised, but good job, babe." Puck chuckled, still holding her loosely even though she placed her feet back on the ground. Rachel beamed up at him, placing a hard kiss on his lips, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly again. "Let the camera show that Rachel can in fact express emotion and therefore is not a robot."

She giggled, pulling back and looking into the camera that he managed to hold at his side, pointing it on both of them. "Unlike Noah, who is a sex machine." She pushed the camera down, noting the tenting in his slacks with another light giggle.

"Can't help it when you're around," he defended, setting the camera down on the dresser and wrapping both arms around her waist. "But I understand if you want to go celebrate with everyone."

"You do?"

"It's your night. We can do whatever you want."

"Anything?" She asked, biting one side of her lip before moving out of his hold and over to her suitcase. Puck cleared his throat, trying to push aside his own dirty thoughts and try to figure out what she was thinking. It was dangerous territory, giving Rachel full reign on anything, but he never expected her to pull out a makeshift blindfold.

"That's what you want?"

"It's a start," she responded simply, walking back over to him and tying the scarf around his eyes. She slowly removed his jacket and then led him to the bed, pushing him down to a seated position before starting to undo all the buttons on his vest and then dress shirt.

Puck could feel her struggling with the tiny buttons and smiled. "Suddenly my idea to rip off your dress isn't sounding like such a bad idea."

"That scarf can go around your mouth, too, Noah," she joked, silencing him instead with her lips. He lifted his hands to rest on her waist, but Rachel moved them away, pushing him back to lie down. Just as slowly, she removed his belt and then unbuttoned his slacks, pulling them down so he was in just his boxers and wife beater. "Give me your hands."

Puck listened to her quiet demand, blowing out an impatient breath when he tried yet again to touch her and she pushed him away. Rachel in control usually wasn't so … unsatisfying. It was usually hot, fast, world shaking. It was … did she just tie something to his wrists?

"Wh-what are you doing?" He asked, unable to see what she'd tied to his wrists and why she was pushing him up to the headboard. Then he felt her raise each of his arms up just a little. "Rachel?"

"Be right back," she announced suddenly, the warmth from her body ripped away from his and replaced with a cold wind as she walked away.

"What are you doing?" He asked again, this time with a little more fear in his voice. He wanted to take the blindfold off, but he could get his hands free of whatever she had obviously tied them to. "Rach?"

"Calm down, Noah," she said softly, his face following the sound of her voice as it moved closer. "I was just putting a chair by the door in case Lauren didn't get the hint." Rachel smiled, staring down at her incapacitated boyfriend. "Don't you trust me?"

"Yes, but I think every guy gets a little nervous when his girlfriend blindfolds him and then ties him naked to a bed."

Rachel lifted onto the bed, resting her knees on either side of his body. "You aren't naked." Then she leaned down, grabbing a weak spot of his wife beater and ripping it in two. Her nails raked across his torso and then down to his hips, removing his boxers with a little less force. "_Now_ you are."

"You're a freak, Berry."

"Takes one to know one," she responded on a smile, wasting little time wrapping her hand around his shaft and swirling her tongue around his tip. They been dating long enough that she knew exactly which formula to use to make him scream her name, but that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to torture him. She wanted him to beg.

Rachel took him entirely in her mouth, holding for only a second before slowly pulling out. She let her teeth scrape against the tender flesh ever-so-softly, Puck groaning in response. Her hands massaged his testicles while she bobbed up and down on his member. They both moaned in appreciation, the vibrations causing Puck's moan to extend into his breathless plea.

"Babe, you gotta stop." Puck closed his eyes tightly, thankful for the fabric covering his vision. If he'd been able to see Rachel's motions, the sultry look she always had in her eye when she went down on him, he would have already lost it. "It's been too long."

"What do you want?" She purred, stepping completely away from the bed.

"You," he answered immediately. "I need you."

Puck felt completely disoriented, a powerful surge of desire coursing through him but having no way to relieve all the pressure. With his vision lost and his hands bound, he was completely at Rachel's will, but now she was gone. Where he once felt her warmth radiating off her was now a cold spot, and it wasn't until his ears heard some rustling that he pinpointed her general whereabouts again. Then, like a flash, Rachel was straddling him, connecting their bodies as one.

"Fuck." Puck banged his head against the headboard, his arms fighting against the restraints futilely. His hands clenched as the rest of his body tensed up. "B, I need to touch you."

"Tell me where you got accepted," she responded on a whisper, slowing her movements as she leaned her torso down. Her tongue came out to trace the outer shell of his ear, Rachel blowing a teasing breath across the lingering moisture. Puck's hips lifted involuntarily, Rachel responding by lifting up just out of his reach. "Just tell me."

"Here," he growled, feeling the scarf around his eyes loosen. The delicate fabric fell away from his eyes, another moan escaping when Rachel came into focus. His mouth watered at the unfiltered passion he saw, and his hands itched to reach out and cup her perfect, perky boobs. Pinch her nipples. Run through her hair. _Anything_. "AMDA."

"You applied to the American Musical and Dramatic Academy?" She questioned, completely in shock. Rachel knew that he was interested in pursuing music, but she never expected him to follow through so … productively. This _was _Noah Puckerman, after all. "And you got in?"

If Rachel was shocked before, she was downright flabbergasted when his usual confidence was completely stripped from his response. Instead, a slow, sheepish smile emerged, and he nodded his head just enough to distinguish the motion from a side-to-side movement. Rachel, however, more than made up for his modesty as she squealed in excitement and again started to rock her hips.

"I'm so proud of you."

It was an odd sentence to push Puck beyond control, but he couldn't help it. She'd always had a way to make him feel things he'd never experienced before, and tonight was no different. The second Rachel untied the two knots holding his wrists up against the headboard, his arms encircled her lithe form. In a flash he switched their positions, pushing her back into the mattress and plowing into her. His forehead sagged to her shoulder, Rachel lifting her hips in time with each of his powerful thrusts.

"Mmmmm, Noah. Harder. I'm so close."

Puck grunted with each forceful pump, Rachel's heels moving off the bed to press him in deeper. Her orgasm hit her like the tide, waves of pleasure washing over her again and again. He quickly followed, collapsing on top of her while panting for air. Sweat brimmed both their bodies, but neither moved to give the other space. Instead, Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing the side of his face lovingly.

"What if I hadn't gotten into Julliard?" Puck scoffed at the insinuation, finally pushing off her to lie on the bed. Rachel seemed just as exasperated, leaning forward to grab the sheet before pulling it over both of them while snuggling closer to his frame. "It could have happened."

"Then you would have gone to NYU," he humored her. "Either way, I needed to be close to keep an eye on my girl."

"You don't have anything to worry about." Rachel rolled her eyes. "You're the only one I want to tie up."

"Tie down," he joked, chuckling into his assault on her lips. They pulled away from one another after a few minutes, each sighing in contentment. It had been a long day for both of them, the most recent of activities just the tip of the iceberg. Moments like this, where they could relax and enjoy each other's company without thinking about glee or school or the future, were hard to come by these days.

Luckily, Puck had basically just assured Rachel that there would be plenty of time to find more of those moments.

"Noah," Rachel gasped, lifting the sheet over her chest as she leaned forward to try to see across the room better. "You left the camera on!"

"Did I?" Rachel groaned, recognizing his fake innocent tone. "No. No, that's the off light."

"It doesn't have an off light, Noah!"

"Sure it does. These new ones do." Puck pulled her tighter into his arms, making her look away from the small device. "Besides, it wouldn't be the first time we had sex on camera. At least this time I won't have to pay two hundred bucks to get the tape from that creepy security guard."

Rachel sighed, shaking her head with a small smile while Puck tried his _other_ form of persuasion to convince her everything would be fine. Damn him and his lips. "We've had some pretty crazy times, huh?"

Puck pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes and smiling. "Yes we have." He kissed her soundly on the lips, and then went back to her neck, mumbling, "And it's only the beginning," before they both completely forgot about the video camera.

At least until they returned to Ohio and showed her fathers what they did during their trip.


End file.
